Inhuman Nature
by LyricalKris
Summary: This is the story of two vampires. One sinister monster who collected the humanity of others. One who struggled to find the humanity he lost. This is the story of one human. Victimized by one, saved by the other, thrown into the middle of a myth, saddled with a secret terror of one monster she could only share with another. You don't need to be human to be humane.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Oh, man.**

 **So, here I am, doing another thing I swore I would never do. Vamp fic. Whoa.**

 **A note. These vampires are not quite canon in characteristics. The story is AU, so some things don't line up with strict canon.**

 **Dedication: To all of you who pushed me, over the years, to do a vamp fic. I hope this one works.**

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 _ **~Jasper~**_

He was being hunted.

Of course he was being hunted. He'd known the probability when he came into this territory. It reeked of others. A coven, he surmised. At least, their scents were all enmeshed. There were at least five; more than enough to keep an eye over a large spread of land. So it shouldn't have come as a surprise that one of them caught his scent.

He'd been perched on a rock, entertaining himself listening to a trio of campers. They were patting themselves on the back for being men of the land, but their camping gear consisted of so many luxuries, including canned food. Men of the land his ass.

"It's so quiet out here," one had said.

"Yeah, man. No one out here but us."

Just you and the boogeyman, Jasper thought to himself, and that was when he felt an encroaching emotion on the horizon. Determination. Focus. The familiar feel of vampires on the hunt.

Venom filled his mouth. He hadn't really been hunting the camping humans. He wasn't hungry, and yet, it was his instinct to defend. He pushed off the rock and ran. Maybe there were five of them, but that didn't give them every advantage. He was nothing if not a tactician.

First, he needed more information. What did these vampires want? They could not consider him much of a threat. He hadn't fed, firstly, and there were five of them.

He took to the river to mask his scent, throw off the chase. When the river got deep, he swam, belly to the bottom. When the water got shallow, he leapt up from the water onto a low tree limb. He climbed. Vampires were excellent climbers, but most preferred the ground, where they could be fast.

He settled on a perch, looking over the wide expanse of forest, listening.

"Hello."

The voice was a distance away, across the trees, but he heard it as clear as day. What startled him wasn't the nearness so much as the direction it was coming from. Up. He raised his head. Sure enough, perhaps ninety feet away, sitting calmly on a sturdy limb above his eye level, was a young man. A vampire with bronze hair. Jasper tensed, ready to leap, analyzing weak points in his stance.

The man extended a hand in a placating motion. "Don't be alarmed," he said, his voice friendly though his lips hinted at a smirk. He knew damn well he'd caught Jasper by surprise. Jasper could feel the arrogance coming off him. "We don't want trouble."

Jasper cocked his head. The other vampire held his gaze, looking him in the eyes.

His eyes were golden.

Again, that smirk played at the corner of his mouth. He didn't wait for Jasper to answer. Without another word, he pushed off the branch and plummeted downward.

Well, Jasper couldn't say he wasn't impressed. The emotions coming off the others weren't threatening. They were calm. Cautious, but calm. At least one of them was amused.

He dropped to the ground, landing in a crouch, ready to spring. They had moved so they were standing a good distance from him but in plain sight. Jasper was no stranger to reading body language, and they were easy to read.

The one who had confronted him wasn't the leader. No. Their leader—their sire, Jasper wondered—stood an inch or so taller than the bronze-haired one and, physically at least, perhaps a bit older. Firmly adult, where the young vampire could have passed for a college kid.

The young vampire, however, was very clearly second in command of the coven. Jasper could tell by the way he stood at the leader's right hand, and only slightly behind.

The others consisted of the leader's mate—Jasper could tell by the way her body was angled toward him, as if attuned—and another mated pair. One of them was massive. That was the one who had been amused. He eyed Jasper as though sizing him up, but not in a threatening manner. Jasper had the distinct feeling he was wondering which of them would win in a friendly match.

They all tensed as he stood. Jasper was used to that reaction, and took no offense. His skin, after all, was riddled with scars. He'd fought many others, and he'd won every battle. They knew it.

The leader stepped forward. "Thank you for coming down. I'm Carlisle," he said, his voice gentle. "This is my family."

Jasper quirked an eyebrow at the word but said nothing. He did give a nod of acknowledgement, but looked to the young one before he spoke. "You knew I was in the tree. How?" Tactics, after all, were a fascination of his.

"You have gifts," the young one said. It wasn't a question. "So do I."

When it was clear that was the only answer he was going to get, Jasper nodded again. "And the rest of your family?" he asked Carlisle.

"Not as gifted as Edward, if that's what you're asking." There was the slightest edge to his voice.

Good. He didn't mind the idea of unnerving the steadfast blond. Something strange was going on here, and Jasper wanted to know what it was. He took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of them from right in front of him and all around. "This is your territory," he said, and that wasn't a question either.

"We live here," Carlisle said.

Again, Jasper's eyebrows shot up. The amusement from the giant increased. He sensed curiosity from Carlisle's mate. "Permanently?"

"As permanent as our kind can manage." Carlisle made a visible effort to let the defensiveness slip from his posture.

"And how do you manage that?"

"By not feeding on our neighbors," Carlisle said, touching the pad of his finger just below his eye. It was as golden as Edward's. They all had golden eyes. Not blood red like his, and not black, so they weren't starving.

Ah. "Animals then?" Jasper guessed. "That…"

"Sucks," said the giant with a laugh. The statuesque blond beside him fought a grimace.

Jasper scoffed. "I'd imagine."

"As you might guess, the presence of a vampire who doesn't share our way of life is of some concern to us," Carlisle said. His tone was even. Explanatory. Perhaps a bit apologetic.

Jasper had to laugh. "This place gets more interesting by the moment," he murmured, mostly to himself.

He thought back to what had brought him there in the first place. A graduate school student in New York named Tyler Crowley. He and young Mr. Crowley had spent quite a bit of time getting to know each other in New York, and Tyler had told him all about this place. How much he'd hated it. Forks was an improbable name for a town, and that was as good a reason as any to choose his next location. After all, it was endlessly dreary and rainy—the perfect haunt for a vampire.

Though a tad more overcrowded than Tyler had described, Jasper noted.

The boy had tasted so very sweet. A delicacy that Jasper had savored as long as he could. Part of him had wondered if the other denizens of Forks, Washington tasted the same.

"We have a residence nearby," Carlisle said. "If you'd like—"

"No." Edward stepped forward, his eyes flashing, his posture gone rigid.

The change in the emotions radiating off the young one was palpable. Horror. Disgust. Fury. He narrowed his eyes at Jasper. "I think it's best if you moved on. This is our territory, and we will defend it if we need to."

The others reacted to the change in mood, each of them reevaluating Jasper, reassessing the threat he posed. The large one was no longer amused.

Jasper frowned, indignant. He'd done nothing to cause this; he was certain. But he was also good at the art of defense. There were five of them, and the charge in the air suggested things could get ugly quickly. All on the whim of the young one?

He might have been annoyed, but he wasn't suicidal.

Jasper put on his most charming smile. "Don't worry. I get where you're coming from. I'll be on my way."

Carlisle looked troubled, but he glanced from Jasper to Edward and back again. He raised his hand in thanks.

Before he could say anymore, Jasper turned on his heel and ran. They did not pursue. He had no intention of going back on his word, but he also wouldn't forget.

That was, he thought, most of the problem of his life. He never forgot.

 _ **~Edward~**_

Edward had to run.

What he wanted was to leap at the other vampire. He was dangerous and deserved to be destroyed.

Jasper.

He'd heard the name in his memories. He saw a boy. Bound. Terrified. Pleading. "Jasper. Hey, man, please. You can't do this. You can't do this to me. Not to me." A gasping sob. "Please, man. No more. No. No!"

He wanted to leap, to tear, to rip the monster to shreds. He wanted to snarl. To destroy.

So, he had to run.

" _Edward_."

Carlisle's voice in his head brought Edward out of his base mode. He slowed enough to let his family catch up.

"Is he a threat, then?" Carlisle asked.

Edward gnashed his teeth. "To us?" He grunted. "No," he said grudgingly.

"Then what's with you?" Emmett asked. "He seemed pretty civil to me."

"He isn't civil. He's the very antithesis." The words came out almost at a growl. In his head, he heard the boy—Tyler Crowley—scream in pain and horror.

They had reached the house, and when they stopped, Esme put a hand on his arm. "What is it, Edward?"

He looked at her, and wondered if he could say the words when looking at the tenderness in her eyes. He swallowed back the venom that rose automatically when he was itching for a fight. "He's a monster."

"We're all monsters," Rosalie said, blunt as ever.

Edward's cheek twitched. He couldn't argue with that, but she didn't see the images in his head. She couldn't hear Tyler—a grown, strong man—dissolve into hysterical tears. She didn't see him curled on the floor, broken. "Not like him." He looked to Carlisle. "Beth and Mark Crowley's son is not missing."

Carlisle's eyes widened.

"His name is Jasper, and he tortured that boy before he killed him." The word seemed inadequate to what the monster had done. He had dismantled the boy. Not literally. When he was finally still in death, his body was intact. He had torn him down systematically. Destroyed him before he let him die.

"You said that about those nomads a few years ago," Rosalie said. "James, Victoria, and Laurent."

Edward shook his head and began to pace. "I said they toyed with their victims. They played with their food. This is a whole other level of inhumane." He looked to Carlisle. "He kept the boy alive for weeks. Fed off him repeatedly while he broke him down."

Esme gasped, her hands going to her mouth. Edward would have gladly ripped the beast apart for putting that look on her face.

Carlisle, Edward could tell, was disturbed, but his gaze was steady. "And what would you have us do?"

"To let a monster like that loose on the humans—"

"Are we to decide who lives and dies now?"

Edward froze. It wasn't the first time they'd had this argument, and he knew well enough how it ended. He ducked his head. "I can't stand knowing what he's doing."

Carlisle stepped forward then and put a hand to his back in a comforting motion. He didn't say anything. He couldn't say anything that hadn't been said a thousand times over.

Edward was a mind reader. It meant he knew everyone's secrets, whether he wanted to or not. And there were a great many people who had done a lot of horrible things. He was as reconciled as he possibly could be with the fact he could do little about what he knew.

Now if only he could escape the feeling that his silence made him complicit.

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 **A/N: Thank you, as always, to Packy, MoH, songster, and eleanor for making my docs crazy town. I love them. So many thanks to Mina. Do you see my gorgeous banner? I love it.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Okay. one more chapter, and then I have to get to work on my final week of summer school. Eeek.**

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Jasper liked to watch people.

His gift was often his curse. Really, it depended on the emotional climate. He liked mornings in parks on cloudy days when he didn't have to worry about the sun. Then, he could watch the early joggers—their minds were among the most peaceful, and their pulse was loud and pleasant in his ears. They smelled delectable. Blood and endorphins made for a savory mix.

He didn't always enjoy crowds. They could be overwhelming. Mobs weren't pleasant. That much rage and vitriol concentrated in one area could be too much, even for his advanced mind and control. It did horrible things to him; made him a horrible thing. High schools were nothing short of torture. Teenagers felt everything in extremes—anger, lust, love, angst. All of it came off them in waves, and there were so many of them in one place, it was incredible the humans couldn't feel it. When he was around that many teenagers, he felt confused and pissed and eager all at once. It left him with too little control over his own actions.

But, other crowds could be pleasant. Jasper liked malls. People were generally in a good mood when they were shopping and hanging out with friends. Here and there, he could pick out an exasperated husband, an envious window shopper, or a cranky toddler, but mostly, the place was awash in a happy buzz.

As he lounged on a bench in the center of the place, Jasper played a game, trying to separate individual moods and match them to people with the assistance of his superior senses. He picked out a wave of euphoria and spotted a pair of young lovers down the walkway, strolling hand-in-hand, with eyes only for each other. He listened to them whisper sweetly in each other's ears and heard the uptick in their heartbeats when they kissed.

A spike of giddiness drew his attention to a shop in eyesight. He saw a young man through the window eyeing a lovely dress. His eyes were wide and eager, his mouth turned up in pleasure. He looked around surreptitiously as he pulled the dress off the rack and held it against his long, lean torso. Oh, the thrill of a good find.

Somewhere else in the mall, the inevitable happened. Human flesh was so vulnerable. Someone pricked a finger on a pin, or a child fell and skinned his knees, or a teenager picked off a scab.

Going amongst humans as often as he did for as long as he'd been alive, the scent that wafted across his nose didn't take him by surprise. He clenched his hands into fists as the first wave crashed over him, a violent churn of thirst and bloodlust. His body tensed, ready for the chase, coiled to spring, and suddenly, the milling humans were prey. His eyes darted from one to the other, assessing. There was a man leaning against the wall right next to the a mall-employee-only entrance. It would take milliseconds to drag him down the quiet hallway. Jasper's mouth filled with venom.

But he was not an unthinking beast, he reminded himself. It had been centuries since he was a newborn—all instinct and no control. He stopped breathing, and that helped clear his mind a bit. Soon, he said to his thirst, his parched throat. He wouldn't hunt like a starved animal. He was more civilized than that. There would be a hunt, but it would be on his terms.

After a few moments, the scent of fresh blood wasn't so overwhelming. The flow had been quickly staunched. Some part of his mind still ached to follow the trail, the flow of the scent. Who was the human at the end of that road? What would they taste like? How good would it be if he gave in and hunted right then and there? His thirst could be slaked in a minute.

The hunt, he reminded himself again, was inevitable, but there were much more interesting ways to go about it. He'd already set up what he needed. He hadn't necessarily been planning to begin today, but today was as good a day as any. Why not?

He rubbed his throat as though he could soothe the scratch. Okay, then.

Taking in a deep breath, Jasper opened himself fully to the scents and emotions of the people all around him. As always, there was that pang in his chest. With his gifts, he would feel everything his prey felt.

Poor humans. What must it be like to have such uncertain lives, and the fragile skin and bones to go with it. Their sweet, sweet blood called to perhaps the only predator they could not subdue. They were so helpless, and most of them never realized it.

Today, one of them would.

In full control of himself now, Jasper stood. He ran a hand through his hair, a decidedly human gesture, and rearranged his features to something more inviting. It was Christmastime. He could pass as a harried young man with no clue what to buy for his loved ones.

It wasn't the kind of hunt his fellows enjoyed. It was a different kind of thrill, but it satisfied his nature.

He took his place amongst all the other holiday shoppers, blending in, waiting for that random inkling. He never knew who he was looking for when he hunted; what would draw him to a person; what would get his attention.

His first stop was a perfume stand. He ducked his head, as though examining the shapes of the bottles. Really, he was listening to the salesgirl trying to help a hapless boyfriend find something good for his girl. Another salesperson eyed Jasper, but by then, the sickening scent of synthetic fragrance choked him. He turned away. He liked his prey to smell like humans.

As he walked, he picked up the familiar pang of lust—attraction—from very close by. When it followed him, he glanced at the reflection of a shop window, and caught a glimpse of a man whose eyes were glued to his ass.

Amused, Jasper stopped in front of another stand—calendars this time. Sure enough, the man stopped too, pretending to browse nearby. Jasper waited. He felt the twist of nerves from the man. He heard him sigh, mutter, "chickenshit," under his breath, and then walk away.

If he'd only known his cowardice had saved him.

As he walked into a more open area, he felt something very small barrel into his legs. He heard an, "oof," and looked down to find a tiny girl on her butt, staring dazedly up at him. Solid as he was, running into him was like running into a wall.

Jasper crouched. "Whoa there. Are you okay, angel?"

She really was a cherub of a girl with rounded cheeks, red from running, the blood pulsing beneath her skin. She looked uncertain as she stared at him with big blue eyes. It was as though she were trying to decide whether or not to be frightened. She blinked owlishly. She couldn't have been more than three.

"Don't cry precious." He reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "Where are your Momma or Daddy?"

The little girl sniffed and raised her head bravely. "Iono where Bella is. I runned. I didn't mean to. I was looking for Santa. I got esscited."

"Oh, Santa. Well, I can't blame you there. I know where Santa is. I can take you there. And I bet Bella is there too." He offered his gloved hand. The girl's face brightened as she took it.

Children were so trusting. He could lead her anywhere he wanted, and she'd likely go without trouble. Their conversations were so much more interesting—sparked with a mixture of reality and whimsical fantasy. The things this little one could tell him would no doubt be fascinating.

He breathed in. Jasper couldn't say he didn't enjoy the scent the child exuded. Children's blood had a purity that was unrivaled. It could be a delicacy.

"Cynthia!"

They'd almost gotten to Santa's Village when Jasper felt terror and heard quick footsteps coming toward them. He turned to see a young woman running full tilt through the mall in their direction. She grasped the child, yanking her away from Jasper and up into her arms. As soon as the child was secure, she stumbled several steps backward, putting distance between them and Jasper.

Jasper cocked his head, taking the woman in. She was a contradiction, he noted. She wore combat boots, black jeans, a leather jacket, and floppy, green Santa hat with elf ears. Her face spoke of youth—early twenties, if that—but her eyes were old. Of course, that might have had something to do with with the fact they were narrowed at him, sparked with the fear and fire he felt roiling all around her.

"Bella." The little girl wrapped her arms around Bella's neck.

"What the hell did you think you were doing, you sick bastard," the woman—Bella—snarled at Jasper.

He cocked an eyebrow, bemused at her ferocity. She looked like an avenging angel, ready to tear him apart, bless her soul. "Your, ah, sister? She was lost. She said you were on your way to see Santa. I thought maybe you'd be looking for her here."

"The man saved me," Cynthia informed her, face serious. "I was lost."

Jasper locked eyes with the woman and tilted his head. Inwardly, he wrapped his will around her emotion. He got a handle on her fear and distrust and turned it down. He filled that space with a sense of ease.

It took a moment for him to realize it wasn't working as well as it should have, as well as it always did. He had to work hard to keep surprise off his face.

She was fighting it. She was fighting the wave of serenity he was sending her. The fear and unease had lessened, but it hadn't faded. She was holding onto it as though suspicion was ingrained in her—part of her very being.

Bella shifted the little girl in her arms, so she was even further away from Jasper. Her stance was defensive. "You were going to see Santa?" she asked. He could hear in her voice that she didn't believe him for a second.

Jasper put on an easy smile. He breathed out subtly. The fragrance of his breath—of any vampire's breath—had a bewitching, befuddling affect. He leaned in slightly. "I told you. We were looking for you. I wasn't going to hurt her."

Bella blinked sporadically and looked him up and down. She cleared her throat. "Thank you," she said. "She got away from me."

"I runned," Cynthia said. "I forgot to slow down. There were a lot of people. Mr. Man found me and helped." She nodded enthusiastically.

Bella huffed. "Yeah, I heard you, Cyn."

Jasper hid a smirk. Doubt still shrouded the woman's emotions. A human with self-preservation instincts. Well, that was novel.

Bella side-eyed him before she looked back to Cynthia. "You could have been hurt. You could have been kidnapped, you know that?"

She was still talking about him; Jasper could tell. She looked at Jasper and took another step backward. "Thanks," she said as though she didn't mean it. "Thank you for your help."

He nodded. "Happy to be of assistance." He met her eyes, challenging her, letting a bit of the danger seep through his practiced features. Her heartbeat sped and her breath caught, but she didn't flinch despite her fright.

"Do you think I could buy you some lunch?" Jasper asked just to see what she would do. Some women liked dangerous men, after all.

Her "no" was quick and emphatic. It was clear she wanted to be away from him as quickly as possible. "We have somewhere to be. Thanks for your help."

With that, she turned and walked off, her gait too quick to be casual. "Bella," he heard the little girl say when they were out of human earshot. "I wanna see Santa."

"Ah, not a chance, kiddo." Bella huffed. "I'd get the heck out of here if I could, but your mom should be here in another twenty minutes. Guess we'll settle on the other side of the mall for now."

"But, why?" Cynthia asked, whining. "You said. You said we'd see Santa."

"Because your Bella knows a threat when she sees one, little angel," he murmured to himself. He chuckled. He'd been truthful when he told Bella he had no intention of harming the child.

On the other hand, there was a plot forming in his mind. The woman had intrigued him—poor, brave, child.

The hunt was on.

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 **A/N: I love my docs, and I love my ducks.**

 **How is everyone out there in fanfic land?**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I'm so irritated at the amount of schoolwork I have, I'm chewing through my cushion.**

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Losing a child in a sea of people was a terrifying experience. She'd been frantic when her charge darted off only to be swallowed up by the throng of people all around them. That had been bad enough, but seeing Cynthia again, hand-in-hand with a strange man, had pushed her into full blown terror. _Not her,_ had been the mantra in her head, and she couldn't get the girl away from the strange man fast enough. Even after she'd put distance and a mall full people between them and him, Bella couldn't shake the feeling she and the kid weren't safe.

Bella rubbed the back of her neck, craning to glance around the mall. No matter where she went, and the fact she hadn't seen the tall blond stranger again, Bella couldn't get rid of the horrible feeling they were still being watched. For the next hour, as she tried to distract Cynthia from the aborted Santa visit, her eyes continuously roamed the crowd, searching for scraggly blond hair and that devilish grin. She shivered.

"Are you okay, Bella?" Cynthia asked, eyeing her as she sipped at her slushy. Bella had finally decided it was okay to go to the food court, but that didn't mean she was resting easy. "How come you didn't get nothing?"

"I'm not hungry." It was an understatement. Her stomach twisted with an anxiety that wouldn't leave her. She kept brushing at the exposed skin of her arms, rubbing the back of her neck. Every inch of her skin crawled with a cloying feeling of disgust that wouldn't go away.

"It was probably nothing," Bella told Mrs. Brandon when she finally showed up to collect her daughter fifteen minutes later. "He probably really was a good samaritan, just like he said." She chafed her arms, chilled despite the mass of bodies in the room. "He just gave me the creeps. I'm sorry. I know you're busy, and that's why you asked me to take her to see the big man."

Mrs. Brandon waved a hand. "I'd much rather be safe than sorry. We girls get taught to give men the benefit of the doubt, and where has that ever gotten us?"

Bella shook her head, her stomach churning for different reasons now. "Nowhere good."

Mrs. Brandon turned her attention to her daughter. "As for you, missy, I'm going to have to buy you a leash. Would you like that? You'd better be glad Bella didn't take you to see Santa today. You'd have had to tell him how naughty you were, running off."

Another few minutes later, Bella was finally on her way out of the oppressive atmosphere of the mall. There were too many people, too many staring eyes. She was glad to get out into the cool air. Her relief, though, was short lived.

The parking lot, though lit, was mostly deserted. There were people milling around, but they were far off and sparsely distributed. Bella shouldered her bag into a tighter grip and switched her keychain, including a small can of pepper spray, into her right hand.

 _Get a grip._

She got in her car and paused. The creepy-crawly sensation returned with gusto. Someone had been in her car.

There was no concrete evidence of this. It just was something she felt deep in her gut. She turned in her seat, looking in the back. Her heartbeat quickened at nothing. She got out of the car and looked underneath. On a whim, she popped the trunk. It was empty.

Getting back in the car, she put both hands on the steering wheel. Her throat was tight. Her cheeks had gone clammy. Over and over, she looked around the inside of the car. Nothing was out of place. Her schoolbooks were still spread out over the front seat. Her Starbucks cup was still in the holder, half full of coffee. Cynthia's spare car seat was still buckled into the backseat.

 _Get a grip._

Just another panic attack, she told herself. Very mild as these things went.

Shaking her head, Bella turned the car on. She pulled up a loud playlist, and headed home.

Bella had a small apartment near the University of Washington, where she studied. Her apartment was on the third floor, but when she got inside, Bella still felt the need to lock the balcony door as well as the front door.

The creepy-crawly sensation lingered. Bella pulled the curtains to every window closed.

The complex was too quiet. This was one of the reasons she chose this place. Tonight, she wished some of her neighbors had a whole gaggle of rambunctious kids still playing outside as the hour got later. She wished her next door neighbors, who were obnoxiously in love, would have a screaming fight. She wanted to feel less alone. Tonight, the silence unnerved her.

Bella made herself a sandwich out of a perfunctory sense of self-care. Her stomach was too twisted to take more than a few bites. She slipped into sweatpants and a sleeved shirt.

In bed, she fired up her laptop and pulled up Netflix. She found a mindless sitcom to watch, but her thoughts kept returning to the tall, blond stranger.

It was his eyes. His eyes had unnerved her. She didn't know why. They were blue. Ice blue. But unnatural somehow. Almost like they were fake.

Fake, but dangerous.

When she fell asleep, he plagued her dreams. The man hadn't said much of anything to her, yet she heard his voice—that smooth, deep lilt—in her ear. The dream twisted into a nightmare. A dark forest and eyes. Blood red, malevolent eyes. The eyes of a predator, stalking its prey. They were everywhere. She ran, but there was no escape. There was nothing except the knowledge that the monster would spring from the darkness, and she wouldn't get away.

Bella woke with a scream, sitting up in bed. She blinked into the darkness of the room, clutching her blankets to her chest. The disorienting mist of sleep clung to her consciousness. What had waken her?

Eyes. There had been staring eyes in her nightmares. Sinister eyes that glowed red with a menacing gleam. Like the ones in the corner of her room, staring at her with unnerving intensity.

She shook her head, waking further. If she could wake all the way up, the eyes would go away.

They didn't waver, and as her eyes grew used to the darkness, she caught the outline of a face. A familiar face. The exact face she'd been expecting to see since the mall. The glowing red eyes were real. He was real. He was here.

In the split second it took to open her mouth to scream, Bella found herself flat on her back. Her cry of fright was muffled by something cold and solid against her mouth. Her flailing hands were caught by her wrists in a one-handed grip. Her legs were pinned by an unyielding weight.

Bella had four solid years of self-defense training under her belt. She knew how to protect herself. She knew how to get out of any hold. She knew the cowards who did things like this rarely accounted for the idea anyone, let alone a petite girl like her, could fight back. She knew how to use bulk, strength, and weight distribution against them.

All of her training kicked in on instinct. She fought back.

Nothing happened. He had both of her hands trapped by the wrist in one of his. It should have taken nothing to bring her hands up and out. His hand may as well have been a steel manacle. There was no give at all, not even that of supple flesh. His other hand was clamped over mouth so hard, she couldn't move her head no matter how hard she thrashed. Her legs were pinned by his knee as though they were under a concrete block.

It was impossible. None of it was possible. What was happening here?

"Shh. Shh. Hush now." His face was so close to hers that his scraggly hair tickled her skin. His voice was a direct contradiction to his hold on her—soft and gentle. "Shh," he cooed again, trying to calm her muffled screams.

His breath blew sweet and cool against her skin. Perception got hazy around the edges. She had to fight to keep from giving in to her rising panic. Bella forced herself to focus. His face was mere inches from hers.

It really was him. The man from the mall. The good samaritan. He was there in her home. On top of her.

His eyes were red, and they glowed in the dark. They were stunning. Quite literally, she was stunned. She stopped fighting, going limp beneath him.

He grinned. "There now. That's a good girl." He leaned in even closer. "Now, I won't hurt you unless you make me, angel. You be good, and don't scream. You understand?"

Despite the gentleness to his tone, his eyes were hard on hers with those last two words. He meant business. She tugged her wrists, trying again to get out of his hold. It wasn't possible that he was made of steel, was it?

Yet, it was possible. He was made of cold, immovable steel—or that was what it felt like. She whimpered against his hand and nodded—the slightest move of her head. A single tear leaked from the corner of her eye, streaking back into her hair.

Yes, she understood. She understood he was strong. Impossibly so. She instinctively knew he could destroy her without effort. There would be no resisting; so yes, she would be good.

"Good girl," he said again, moving his hand from her mouth to wipe another tear away with the pad of his thumb.

Bella sucked in a shaky breath, repulsed by his touch. Then, she cried out—a single, short yelp. He'd flipped her onto her stomach in a single, too-quick movement.

"Shh. You promised to be quiet." He straddled her back.

The dread coiling in her gut doubled. "No," she whispered, her heart hammering so painfully hard, it stole the breath from her lungs and the volume from her voice. She tensed, waiting. She waited for the feel of his hands on her body, the tug of her clothing against skin, the terrible sound of cloth being violently ripped away. "Please, don't. Please."

He chuckled, obviously amused by her terror. He'd brought her hands behind her back and bound them with something softer than rope. The movements were quick. Too quick. Inhumanly quick.

Inhuman.

He leaned down, and Bella shuddered at the feel of his body over hers, dwarfing her. She gritted her teeth to keep from begging again.

"That's not what I want from you," he said, his lips against her ear. Like the rest of him, they were cold and solid.

He moved her hair off one shoulder. Revulsion went through her, following the chills that ran up and down her spine. She was glad she hadn't eaten much, nauseated as she was. She couldn't help the pathetic little noises that whined at the back of her throat as he ran the tip of his nose up her neck, inhaling. He groaned. "Jesus, but you do smell good. So good."

Bella screwed her eyes shut, fighting uselessly against her binds. "What do you want from me?" If not that, what? If not that, why was he touching her?

He sighed and straightened up, one hand splayed wide, resting on her upper back. "You're too tempting, you know that? I could take what I want right here." His voice, as he spoke, was lower now; much more dangerous.

"What do you want?"

Rather than answer, he moved. His weight was off her then. He bound her feet at the ankle in a fraction of a second and flipped her back over.

"Sorry about this," he said, his tone light. As though it hadn't been rumbling and threatening not moments before. Now he sounded somewhere between amused and honestly apologetic. He produced a roll of duct tape from somewhere. "It's not for long. I promise." With that, he pressed a length of tape over her mouth.

He gathered her in his arms, lifting her as though she weighed nothing. By then, fright and her quickened breath were making her lightheaded. Rather than dwell on her complete and utter helplessness, she put all her concentration into not throwing up.

The stranger carried her out of her bedroom, down the hall. Bella registered surprise as he stepped through the open door out onto the balcony. She yelled against her gag. What the fuck was he going to do?

He paid her no attention at all, but leapt gracefully almost straight up, landing without a sound on the bannister. He braced, and she screamed as he jumped through the air, into the night.

* * *

 **A/N: Welp. Bella and I both need well wishes if we're going to survive.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: A few of you are getting uncomfortable with what's to come. This is what I can assure you. When Edward talked of torture in the first chapter, he wasn't talking of physical torture. Remember he said Tyler's body was whole and unharmed (save for the bite) when he finally died. I hope that helps, and I definitely understand if you need to peace out.**

 **Let me know if I can answer any questions.**

* * *

When Edward came home, he was surprised to find Carlisle's car already in the drive. Then, he heard his thoughts. He clenched his fists and his jaw, anger flaring in him. He took a calming breath before he went in the house.

"Charlie Swan's daughter is missing," he said, saving Carlisle the trouble of speaking. "And that blond bastard was interested in another meal from Forks."

"She doesn't live in Forks," Carlisle said evenly. She never had, really. Edward knew that. Carlisle and Charlie Swan were friends. Charlie worried about his daughter almost constantly.

"No, she doesn't live in Forks. She lives in Seattle. And we sent him away."

"There's no evidence it was him. People disappear all the time."

"From locked, third-story apartments?" Edward had gleaned the details from Carlisle's thoughts.

Carlisle's shoulders slumped ever so slightly. "It was always going to be somebody. We can't help what others of our species do."

"No, but he was a monster." Edward frowned. There had to be a better word—something that separated him from that asshole.

"We—"

"Don't offer me platitudes, Carlisle. This isn't the same, and you know it. You're not the one who's seen what he does to them. You don't have to carry that with you." He picked up the table Carlisle leaned upon and flung it across the room. It shattered into splinters and glass.

Carlisle bowed his head. _How I wish I could carry the burden, my son_.

Edward whirled. Most times, he did consider Carlisle his father, though it was a title he still struggled with at times. Today was most certainly one of those times. "I'm not a little boy. You can't teach me the way of the world. You can't tell me what I have to accept. We're responsible for this. Don't you understand that? This girl is doomed to suffer for weeks. Weeks, Carlisle, of a human lifetime."

His father's jaw went taut. Edward saw Charlie's pale, tortured face.

"She's only been missing twenty-four hours," Edward said, quick to jump on a chink in Carlisle's armor. "We can still help her."

"Can we?" Carlisle raised his head to look at Edward with a steady gaze. "None of us is any good at tracking."

"You think this girl's life, your friend's child's life, isn't worth the effort?"

Carlisle flinched inwardly, but his gaze didn't waver. "All right." He stood up, his arms crossed as he faced him. "And how many of us are you willing to sacrifice?"

Now it was Edward who flinched. "What?"

"You saw his scars. I know you know what that means. We all knew what that meant the moment we saw him. The sight of him raised a biological instinct to fight or flee."

Edward turned away, looking out the window. His father continued. "He's old. I know you felt it. I know you saw it. Maybe older than me. And he's won every single battle he's been in. Between the five of us, yes, we would destroy him, but do you really think he won't take at least one of us with him? Our family, all our family, has only known peace. None of us has ever been a warrior."

"I'll go alone," Edward said.

He took one step away before Carlisle was in front of him, hand on his shoulder. "Who do you think you're kidding?"

Edward's lip twitched. His family, his odd little family, would never let him face such a dangerous creature alone. "It can't be right to let him do this," he murmured under his breath.

"Anymore than it's right that we're aware of any atrocity?" Carlisle rubbed his back—a distinctly human gesture.

Of course, that, if anything, defined Carlisle. Distinctly human. Kind, thoughtful, and empathetic. Humane. He should have been the first one to champion Edward's cause, and yet he wasn't.

With good reason.

Edward pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to calm down. It was true. Every story on the news, every human monster who did horrendous things to their fellow man, technically speaking, they could stop them all. Especially Edward, with his gift. He thought of the women and children he heard of on the news from time to time. The ones who had been kept in basements, raped and tortured for years on end. The victims of human trafficking, forced into horrific fates. Technically, he could wander the world, listening for evidence of these people in others' thoughts. Technically, any one of his family could spend their life killing those who deserved it. Their unique abilities, how they could hear for miles, for instance, clued them in to wrongdoing all the time. Were they responsible to stop it all?

In reality, Edward had already been down that road. It didn't end well. Not for him. Not when he could hear their thoughts when they died. As quickly and efficiently as he killed them, he always caught the flavor of their last moments.

Whoever proposed that your life flashes before your eyes before you died was right, to an extent. Not every moment. Only the important ones. The best ones. Moments of love and affection. Moments of hope and triumph. Soft words from loving mothers, memories of the giggling children they used to be. Even the most cold hearted of villains had those moments, and Edward got to hear them as their blood filled his mouth, slaked his thirst, and silenced the predator that owned his mind.

"He's one of us," Edward said. "We must police our own."

"Are you proposing we take on the Volturi, then?" he asked. Memories flashed through his mind. The Volturi, at times, were not so much better than this…

Savage? Devil.

Regardless, the Volturi, in their idle moments, had done horrendous things. Centuries later, Carlisle's jaw still clenched when he spoke of them. Yet they were the ruling class, the ones who meted out justice to vampires that had gone off the rails. They wouldn't flinch at Jasper's actions.

Edward clenched and unclenched his fists, feeling helpless.

Carlisle stepped away from him, giving him space. "Do you ever wonder if we're the mutants of our species? The natural variation? It's in our very nature to hunt, to kill, to sustain our strength with their lives, and yet our family can't handle the guilt of that. The rest see the humans as little more than a food source. And how much respect can you have for something that is less than yourself?"

"Meat is murder," Edward said wryly. He thought a moment. He knew his father was trying to distract him into a philosophical discussion. After all, there was no easy answer to his discomfort. The answer was, as always, that the world was not a fair place, and he couldn't put an end to the horrors the world's citizens—vampire or human—were capable of.

He had to learn to live with it. If he didn't, if he went off after this devil and the innocent girl in his clutches, he would do so at the most certain sacrifice of his family or himself.

After long, tense minutes, Edward sat down. Carlisle sat across from him as though the table he'd destroyed was still there.

"If our species, by nature, regards them as lesser, why are we the ones in hiding?" Edward said, giving in to his father's attempt to change the subject.

 _ **~0~**_

 _Help me. Help me. Somebody, please help me._

Bella closed her eyes as tightly as she could, which was really a stupid thing to do. It was pitch black, after all.

Still, it helped her calm down. Being stuck in the absolute darkness was something she was being subjected to. Seeing the insides of her eyelids was her own choice.

Maybe the last choice she had left.

She breathed in through her nose, and when her lips began to tremble, she pressed them into a hard line. A tear slipped out from under her eyelash leaving a hot trail down her cold, cold cheek.

It was so cold.

The room was too dark, and what was more, it was too silent. She could hear the scrape of her skin when she rubbed her legs together, trying to instill some warmth. The sound of her chains—chains!—scraping against the cold, hard floor echoed in the space around her. The sound of her own breath coming and going, often in staccato spikes, was so loud it annoyed her. She thought she could even hear the pulse of blood in her ears with each beat of her heart.

What unnerved her more than any of that was what she couldn't hear. She couldn't hear sounds from outside—not traffic or wind or the bustle of people. She couldn't hear _him_ moving upstairs.

That was the only thing she knew. She was downstairs. Below. Below ground. A basement. They'd driven forever. She was on the floor of the car so all she could see was a slice of sky. When they'd finally stopped, he'd pulled into a garage connected to the house. She'd never seen the outside. He'd given her a moment, "to refresh yourself," in a lavish bathroom before he dragged her down a forbidding set of stairs, his hand clamped hard around her arm to keep her from writhing away. She hadn't seen too much of the room before the closed the door, plunging the room into inky blackness.

She was chained. The binds around her wrist were soft enough that they didn't chafe, but they were attached to a metal chain. She'd followed the metal chain to find she was tethered to a metal loop on the floor. She was leashed like a dog, her hands bound at her wrists.

There was nothing in the circle she was bound to. Nothing to lean on. No source of comfort. No way of gaining her bearings. She supposed there was some comfort to be found in the fact he'd removed her gag and the binds around her feet. She could stand. She could stretch. She could yell for him to come back and let her the hell out of there.

Now, Bella was curled up on the floor, her body wound as tight as she could get it. Hours had passed. Maybe a whole day; it was hard to tell. The darkness and silence was getting to her. She could practically feel herself coming unhinged, and she knew she couldn't let that happen.

 _Think it through._ It was the only chance she had of staying alive.

Not that there was much of a chance.

There was no way he wanted her for ransom. First of all, she was no one. She had no money of her own. Her mother taught kindergarten. Her father was the chief-of-police in a tiny town. Besides all that, her captor had to be rich. His car had been spacious and immaculate. The house—what little she'd seen of it—was large and sprawling. No. He wasn't after money.

That left…

Bella shut that line of thinking down quickly. He had said he didn't want that. What he'd done to her in her bed—pinned her body with his, invaded her personal space—was the limit of how he'd touched her. He spent the whole drive ignoring her to the point she wondered if he even remembered she existed. He sang to himself as he drove, his voice a rich tenor that she might have enjoyed under other circumstances. She was still dressed in the clothes she'd gone to bed in, not a single thread out of place.

Then what? What could he possibly want from her?

When she was too exhausted to think anymore, she slept. She woke. She paced. She screamed for someone, anyone to hear her. Time crept forward.

Apropos of nothing, the door opened. Bella pushed to her feet and stumbled, weak with hunger and disorientation. He flipped a switch and light filled the room. Bella hissed. She fell on her backside, bringing her bound hands up to cover her headache that had raged for hours or days—who knew—intensified.

He chuckled, and the sound helped her focus. She scrambled to her feet again, squinting in the too-bright light—and backed as far away from him as her chain would allow. He kept coming toward her, his stride slow. He was carrying something that she couldn't see, blurry as her vision was. Her legs shaking too much, she knelt on the floor, head bowed as she waited to see what would happen.

"Did you change your mind, angel?" He smoothed a strand of hair back out of her face with icy fingers. His tone was so gentle, it was obscene. "It was only a few hours ago you were screaming for my attention."

It was true. She'd thought she preferred him to the darkness, knowing to the endless questioning. But having him there beside her—he towered over her even as he knelt at her side—she couldn't help but be unnerved. He was going to hurt her. She knew it in her bones.

She gasped when he held the back of her head. She could feel the strength in his hand. Would he crush her skull then?

"Drink," he commanded. He raised a glass of water to her lips.

Bella only considered disobeying for a split second. She feared what might be in the drink, but what would be the point of drugging her? He was deadly strong, and she was already bound. The cup didn't smell like anything. Besides, as parched as she was, she was likely to die of thirst as anything else.

She drank.

"Slowly," he admonished, letting go of her head to pet her hair.

She shuddered, turning away from the cool, refreshing water.

"Drink," he demanded again, gripping the back of her head, forcing her to turn back to the glass he held.

She drank. Some of it dribbled down her chin. She was shaking too badly to get all of it in her mouth.

"There's a good girl. Not so hard, is it?" He petted her again.

Good dog, Bella thought. A spark of anger curled in the pit of her stomach, glowing warm amidst the dread and terror.

When she had drunk every drop, he set the glass down and moved to sit in front of her, cross-legged. His movements were abnormally graceful. He would be beautiful if he weren't so terrible. He lapsed into stillness as he stared.

The longer it went on, the more Bella's anxiety rose. Her skin began to crawl like she was covered in roaches. She writhed inwardly in disgust. Though his features were still, there was a glint in his eyes. Her heartbeat sped. The very tip of his tongue darted out as though he wanted to taste her.

"What do you want from me?" The words came out in a rush, in a jumble. She was shaking in earnest now.

He tilted his head, his smile amused as he considered her. "I suspect you'll figure that out soon enough. Next question."

Despite the fact she was shaking like a leaf, she raised her eyes to his. He smirked. "I know you have questions." He waved a hand. "Ask."

She had to swallow hard past the lump in her throat. Besides the nerves, one glass of water hadn't been enough to slake her thirst. His stare set off every alarm bell in her head.

The eyes. Those red, gleaming eyes.

"What are you?" she whispered.

He chuckled again, his lips tugging up at one corner of his mouth. He leaned forward, and his eyes were all she could see. "What do you think I am?"

Bella shuddered and pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth to keep from whimpering. "I don't know anything about mon—" She cut herself off, her eyes darting to his and away.

If anything, his grin widened. "Monsters? You think I'm not human?"

"I know you're not human," she snapped, that tiny spark of anger growing at his patronizing tone. "I'm not a fucking idiot. You're incredibly fast and strong. Your skin is ice cold, and you jumped from the third floor to the ground like a god damned ballerina. None of those things are human characteristics."

Saying it out loud, the knowledge sank in fully. Her breath whooshed out in a gust, and she inched backward, away from him.

He was not human.

She started to tremble so hard, her teeth rattled. She reached the end of her tether and tugged at her binds. She tugged hard enough that her wrists hurt.

Quick as a flash, his hand darted out and grabbed the chain. She cried out, struggling to keep herself upright as he yanked her forward. All the blood drained out of her face as she found herself too close to him.

He clucked his tongue like a disapproving mother. "Careful, angel." He walked his fingers up the chain and touched his fingers to hers.

She shook, caught in his stare. His fingers slithered up her hand like a snake. In another too-quick movement, the binds at her wrists were gone. They fell to the floor with a clatter. Bella jumped. She was still tethered, but now by him. His hands were wrapped around her wrists, holding them out as though she were still straining against the chain.

His eyes still on hers, he brought her hands up—she'd clenched them into fists now—to his lips. "Be careful with your skin, little girl. You don't want to break it." He leaned down, breathing in the skin at her wrists. He looked up at her again, his grin turning wicked. "At least, not yet."

A terrible chill went down her spine, and her voice whined in the back of her throat. She tried to yank her hands away from him, but he held fast. He turned his head, and pressed his lips to her wrists in an open mouthed kiss. "No," she whispered, and she screwed her eyes tightly shut, waiting for pain.

It didn't come, and as he raised his head again, she opened her eyes. She stared. He watched her; the corner of his mouth turned up in a devious smirk. "Say it," he said.

"You're a vampire." She could hardly believe the words even as she said them.

His grin was almost proud now. "Clever girl. Most of my, ah...friends don't ever pick up on that tidbit. Not until the first bite anyway." He flashed his perfect, white teeth at her.

Bella's eyes went wide. Her head swam, and she had to fight to keep from collapsing into a ball of terror at his feet.

"You've figured out the answer to your first question, haven't you?" He laughed.

And she knew.

She wasn't going to get out of here alive.

* * *

 **A/N: So many thanks to Packy, Songster, Eleanor, MoH, and Mina. My docs are a madhouse of caps locked screaming and Hannibal gifs.**

 **And thanks to you beautiful people, keeping me sane this last week of summer school. I'll be back to my other stories in a few days. Promise.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Last day of school. My hardest class. I'm using you guys and your feedback to keep my head above water. Mwah. Love you, ducks.**

* * *

 _ **~Jasper~**_

It had been a long while since a human had honestly intrigued Jasper.

He took no great pleasure from what he did. The whole, messy process was often work for him and unpleasant. Not without perks. The humans did amuse him, and of course, drinking most any of them was divine. But it was not something he did because he enjoyed it. He felt an obligation towards his victims to know them in full before he took their lives.

This girl, though. His curiosity about her was honest. With her, he thought he knew what DaVinci and Michelangelo felt when they were so desperate to study the human body, to know how it worked from the inside out, that they dug up the dead. Bella simply intrigued him.

After their first conversation, he'd left her shackled in the dark again. Her fear then had been palpable, as was to be expected. He'd gone upstairs, closed his eyes, and let it consume him. It was part of his process, his self-inflicted punishment, he supposed. The price he paid, because he could not let go of the concept of humanity.

Terror was a strange thing for a creature such as him. Vampires, by and large, did not experience fear. It was, therefore, a supernatural emotion for him, and as many years as he'd existed, Jasper never got used to the feeling. So it was part of his penance, his atonement, for taking a human life—someone's daughter, someone's friend, someone's lover, someone's parent, etc.

Because he and Bella had so much work to do, he thought he would bathe in her fear for perhaps an hour before he attempted to calm her. That was another thing he was curious about—why his gift hadn't been as effective on her as it was on most people. However, the whole of the hour hadn't passed before the girl's emotions changed on their own.

She had been crying—great, wracking sobs she attempted to muffle against her arm. He heard them, of course. He imagined how they shook her small body. But as her tears quieted to hiccups, her fear receded. It wasn't gone, but it was muted.

Odd. Typically, it went the other way. A human who experienced that level of terror most often drove her or himself into complete hysteria.

On a whim, Jasper left the house to make a few purchases. So another hour had passed by the time he was at the door to the basement again. He opened the door, feeling Bella's surprise and hearing the clank of her chains as she jolted. His eyes worked just fine in the darkness, so he could see her inch as far away from him as her tether would allow.

He flipped the light switch and she gasped, turning her head so her hair fell across her face. Just as before, the light hurt her eyes and left her disoriented. He descended the stairs one at a time, letting each foot fall audibly. Fear spiked in her, but so did something else. Determination, he thought. There was an odd sense of peace around her. Not tranquility or serenity. It was the distinct flavor of someone who had accepted her fate.

Very interesting. Especially as she made a visible effort to sit up straighter. She looked up as he walked toward her.

He stopped at the very edge of the invisible circle she was limited to and set the tray of food he carried on the floor. He watched the flare of her nostrils as the scent wafted toward her, and felt the corresponding longing. Still, she did not immediately drop her gaze. She kept her eyes on him for a few more moments before they darted down to the food at his feet. She didn't move, and after another second or two, their eyes met again.

"I made this special for you," he said. "A treat, because I was impressed that you figured out what I am so quickly." He nodded his head down at the tray with his recent purchases—hot tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich he'd made himself, perfectly toasted. Comfort food.

Bella turned her head and stared at the wall.

A flicker of annoyance went through him. "Don't be stubborn," he said, not as friendly now. "Come eat."

She ignored him.

He moved toward her, his step slow and measured. Her heartbeat sped, and she sucked in a quick, sharp breath. Still, she didn't move. He stood over her, so close her face was millimeters from his shirt, his stomach. "Oh, angel. You don't want to play this game with me."

"I'm not hungry," she bit out between clenched teeth.

"I didn't ask. I said eat."

She didn't move.

He crouched at her side, and she shuddered. Her body tensed, waiting. When he brushed her hair away from her face, off one shoulder, she cringed away, her breath coming in gasps. Dread permeated the emotional atmosphere, but it was tinged with determination. "You're trying to provoke me," he said, his lips near her ear. "Do you think that's wise, little one?" He rested his hand ever so lightly on her back. She trembled beneath his palm, but said nothing.

"You will eat," he said as he began to stroke her back, his touch light enough to make her shiver. "I don't want to hurt you, angel, but I will." He moved one hand to clasp her chin. She made a little mewling noise as he squeezed her cheeks, forcing her mouth open. "If you force me to make you eat, I can promise you won't like it." He gave her head a little shake. "Tell me you understand."

She tried once to jerk away from him, but his hold was far too firm. She whimpered, but made a distorted noise he took as a yes. He shoved her away from him and she fell to the ground. By the time she pushed herself upright again, he was at the other end of the circle, by the tray. "Come eat," he demanded, much colder now.

She took a deep breath and walked on her knees across the small space. Her eyes on him, she stopped when she was in arm's reach of the food. It took some maneuvering—her hands were still bound—but she managed to pick up the small bowl of soup.

He'd figured she would go for that. The sandwich would have been easier to handle, but the soup was warm. Tendrils of heat still curled up into the cold air of the basement. She had to be freezing. He watched as she brought the soup to her lips, her movements slow so as not to drop it. Her eyes fluttered closed as she sipped.

After she'd taken a few long gulps, she set the bowl back down again. It had been some time since she'd last eaten, so he didn't push her to eat more. There would be time for that.

"Why do you care if I eat?" she asked, and he was surprised at the anger in her voice. Fury had been one of the many emotions swirling around her, but it rose to the forefront now.

"You'd rather I let you starve to death?" he asked.

"You're going to kill me." It wasn't a question. She looked him in the eyes. "Right?"

He tilted his head, studying her, and let a small smile tug at the corners of his mouth. "Not today."

She flinched, but she nodded. "Why not today?"

He quirked an eyebrow. "I'm not that thirsty yet."

Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "So what? You're just fattening me up? Pig for the slaughter."

"Your fat is of no use to me," Jasper said, his tone breezy though he was inwardly impressed by the girl yet again.

In a blinding fast movement, he'd undone the catch to her binds and had her in his lap, one hand firm around her waist. He tangled the other in her hair and used it to pull her head back, careful to go slow and not yank. She cried out, her hands going up to his fist in her hair. Her breath came in quick gasps.

Jasper dipped his head, inhaling her sweet scent right at her pulse point. He put his lips to her skin. "Is this what you want angel?" he asked so the words vibrated against her skin. "You're ready to die right now?"

She whimpered but whispered, "Yes."

Tempting. So tempting. All that blood right beneath the surface of her skin. It would be good. So good. He could tell already. He let his lips linger, feeling the thrum of her pulse. He could hear the rush of her blood. It would take nothing at all to taste her. A fraction of a second, the most miniscule of effort, and her hot blood would rush into his mouth.

He chuckled and kissed her neck. "This isn't about what you want."

With that, he stood, bringing her up with him. He tossed her over his shoulder and headed up the stairs.

"What are you doing? Where are you taking me?"

"You're a human. You have human needs." He set her down in the bathroom. "You may attend to them. You'll find everything you need, including clothes."

She stared at him, her arms wrapped defensively around her shoulders. "What the hell is the point of this? You don't want to kill me right now. You want me to eat and drink and take a fucking shower. Why? What do you want from me?"

"You seem to have answered your own question." He knew, of course, what she wanted. She wanted to know what was coming, besides the inevitable. But that was part of the game. Humans came undone when life was unpredictable, and undone was the only time they were honest.

However, some details might serve his purpose well. "I want you to eat and drink because I need you strong and healthy." He let a slow smile, honey sweet, spread across his face as he stepped toward her. Her face paled, and she stepped back. He stepped forward, she stepped back again, until she was pressed against the wall next to the shower. He put his hand next to her head and leaned in so his body hovered a millimeter above hers. "Here's the crux, little girl." He tilted his head down, breathing her in. She held her breath and pressed her palms flat against the wall, her eyes tightly shut. "You smell like heaven. When I have you…" He raised his head so his lips brushed her ear. "And I will. I'm going to want to savor the flavor. Not just the once."

Her voice whined in the back of her throat, and Jasper grinned. He pushed himself up again so there was more distance between them, and he could see the horrorstruck look on her face. He raised a finger and brushed the hair out of her eyes. "If you're weak and sickly, you won't survive when I drain you."

He stepped back then. One step. Two. Three. She didn't move. Her wide eyes were still frozen on him. "You...you're sick," she whispered.

"No." He smiled at her, his expression serene. "I'm a vampire." He closed the door then, locking her in the bathroom.

 _ **~Edward~**_

It was the third day after Bella Swan disappeared before Emmett caught him alone.

"You're in a mood. Worse than usual, I mean." He paused, an uncharacteristicly serious expression crossing his face. "Is it about Charlie Swan's kid? Carlisle is quiet about it too."

Edward debated a moment, considering his options. Emmett was prone to acting first and thinking later. If there was one thing Edward and Carlisle agreed on, it was that this other vampire was lethal. He hadn't stayed alive as long as he had without being smart, and none of them had any experience hunting vampires.

"That blond vampire from some weeks ago?" Edward grimaced. "It's a hunch, but I suspect he's the one behind her disappearance."

Emmett flopped down beside him on the couch. It groaned under the pressure. "That's heavy, man. What makes you think that?"

Edward explained about the window and reminded his brother-of-sorts that the devil had taken a liking to Tyler's blood. That was the reason why he'd been in Forks to begin with.

"But Charlie Swan's daughter isn't really from here, right? I mean, she doesn't live here." Emmett cocked his head, thinking it through. "I'm sure she's been here."

"I did say it was just a hunch, but it feels too contrived to be a coincidence."

"Well, there's a simple solution. Why not go to Seattle? At least find out if you're angsting out over nothing." Emmett got up. "I could use a good run, and it'll be night by the time we get there."

Edward stood as well, staring at Emmett, hearing his thoughts. "You want to fight him."

Emmett shrugged, not even bothering to hide it. "Yes and no. You're a challenge, little brother. You're damn good in a fight, and you give me a run for my money, but you're the only sparring partner I've had in decades. He'd be interesting to fight, but I'm not as stupid as I look. I don't mind this life. I'd prefer to keep living it." He gave Edward a healthy slap on the back that would have sent him flying across the room if he wasn't prepared for it. "I doubt he'd still be loitering around her place, but I'll keep you in check if you keep me in check."

"Deal."

They took off before the others got home.

"Does it not bother you at all?" Edward asked as they ran. "The things he does, I mean."

Emmett laughed. "A lot of things bother me, Edward. Or, I guess a lot of things don't sit right with me."

"But if you could do something about them…"

Emmett pulled to a sudden stop, grabbing Edward's arm to stop him too. Dirt came up all around them. "I keep telling you, bro, comics are more your era than mine. You should read one. See what happens to the guy who ends up with super powers and decides he has to be the hero. Or watch a damn television show. One of those ones about guys on a crusade. It never ends well."

He took Edward by the shoulders and gave him a shake. "Bad shit is always going to happen. You can spend your life trying to stop it, but it's never going to stop. And you're fucking immortal, Edward. You want to spend the rest of time, until this damn planet crashes into the sun, being that miserable?" He shook his head, letting Edward go. "That's a whole lot of nope if you ask me."

"Then why did you agree to go?" Edward asked as they ran again.

"I already told you. You're probably angsting out for nothing. Besides, there was a bear sighting not too far east of here. I figured we could head on that way when we're done."

Edward rolled his eyes, but he smiled with fondness.

When they arrived at Bella's apartment building, Edward didn't need to go in. He smelled the blond vampire around the grounds. Of course, that didn't stop him. He hopped up onto her balcony—the devil had been there too. Point of entry, as Edward had expected.

The place had been searched, of course, so many scents mingled in the room, none of them recent. He recognized Charlie Swan's scent, but no one else was familiar.

What did she smell like, he wondered? Which scent was hers? Could it be that outrageously sweet scent that seemed to be stronger than the others? That would make sense given that it was her home; she'd spent the most time here. He went into her room, and the smell intensified. Intoxicating, it was. Heady. Cinnamon and lilac and…

His mouth pooled with venom.

"He was here," Emmett said, joining him in the room. "But he hasn't been back."

Edward swallowed hard and stopped breathing, willing the bloodlust to loosen its hold. Such a strange reaction given there were no humans in the small apartment. As though someone were trying to remind him, he was a monster too.

"Trail ends outside. He had a car," Emmett went on, oblivious to Edward's inner monologue.

"Now we know," Edward said flatly. But what to do about that, he still had no idea.

"She smells good, doesn't she?" Emmett asked, nostrils flared as he breathed her in. "Better than most, I mean."

"Yes."

If they could smell her so many days after she'd been taken, what would she smell like in person? What would her scent do to a vampire's thirst?

Would it mean mercy? Perhaps the devil had been overcome, and had killed her in an instant—drained her dry before he could get a handle on himself.

Or would it mean more torment? If Jasper had the control to feed off humans not once but over and over again, how long would he want to keep her—a delicacy?

And, God help him, above all those questions, one more echoed loudly in his head.

What did she taste like?

 _ **~Jasper~**_

It was the fifth day before he needed to know.

His eyes were turning black, and the thirst was getting harder to ignore. It was time. She had regained her strength. The color was back in her cheeks. She was strong, and she would survive.

After he'd allowed her time to use the facilities, she looked with dread toward the basement door. Oh, she hated that basement. He knew she did, but she hadn't begged. Not yet.

She wasn't close to breaking.

She did, however, ask for a blanket.

Jasper grinned, appreciating a perfect segue when he saw one. "What are you going to give me for it?"

Bella blinked. "What?"

"A trade. You can have all the blankets you want, but I want something in return."

"What?"

He looked at her. Stared. Focused his eyes on hers, and let the thirst slip into his features-a glimpse of the predator.

She balked.

Knowing she understood, he went to the couch and sat. He patted his knee. She didn't move. He tilted his head, his lips quirked with a hint of a leer. "I'm going to take what I want," he said, his tone even as he stared at her. "It's up to you whether you get your blankets or not."

They always ran. Always. Most of them didn't quite understand what they were running from yet. They just knew they had to, when he looked at them like he was looking at her now.

She didn't run. She stared at him, hate in her eyes that matched the tone of her emotions. Hate, and fury, and fear. What she felt was chaotic, but she held her head high as she walked towards him.

Ten steps. Each of them torturous, though he wouldn't have known by the look on her face. She trembled like a leaf, but she kept coming forward.

When she was in arm's reach, he saved her the pain of that last step. He pulled her down onto his lap, eagerness and bloodlust overpowering almost everything else.

Slow, he warned himself. Slowly.

He moved her hair off one shoulder as he'd done so many times before. He felt her shudder, saw her hands clench in fists at her side. Oh, he could have pulled the blood from anywhere else. Her arm, her leg, her wrist. But this was classic. They expected this, and he was willing to give them what they wanted.

Almost too roughly, he tilted her head to the side. She yelped, but then his mouth was at her neck. His teeth dug into lush flesh. She screamed.

Ecstasy. Ambrosia. His eyes rolled back in his head. His strength and vigor—waning these last days—returned to him full force, and it was all he could do to keep from crushing her in his arms. He craved her. Needed more. Needed it all.

Her hands scrabbled uselessly against his stone chest, her nails scraping along his skin with no effect. She made pained little noises, whispering, "Please, please, please," under her breath.

He tightened his arms around her, only barely in enough control of his senses that he could take care not to crush her. It could never be enough. He wanted it all. All her sweet, hot blood.

She writhed in his arms, but her movements quickly grew feeble. Her hands dropped to her lap, and Jasper got a hold of himself. He needed to stop. He needed to stop with enough time to suck the venom from her system without killing her. Her whispers tapered off into nothingness, and her eyelids fluttered against the inevitable pull of unconsciousness. Her heartbeat grew sluggish.

 _Enough_ , he told himself.

With a final, tiny mewl, she sagged against him.

 _Enough_.

With a growl rumbling low in his throat, he licked her wound closed and raised his head. He pressed the back of his hand to his mouth. For seconds he fought for control, reminding himself that if he finished her off, there would be no more of this.

Christ, so good.

When he had a handle on himself, he stood, her body limp, limbs dangling. He walked up the stairs at a human pace, glad for the quiet emotional climate and the absence of thirst.

He had prepared a bedroom for her. The sheets were silky soft. The blankets warm and clean. He laid her down and stared for a moment, admiring how her dark hair looked splayed over the white pillow.

After he had arranged the blankets just so, he sat on the edge of the bed, listening to her weak pulse. Her head lolled to one side so the mark on her neck was clear. His mark—a circle of teeth. He licked his lips, already desperate to taste her again.

So much better than he could have imagined.

* * *

 **A/N: That's it. That was all that was left of my cushion. But hopefully, after today, I'll get my brain back and be able to get back on my writing schedule.**

 **Well...how are we, kids?**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Kind of a tough one, I think. Let me know if you need me to answer questions.**

* * *

When she opened her eyes, it took Bella minutes to figure out why the sight of the sun peeking out of the cloudy Washington sky seemed strange to her. She wasn't thinking, really. Her mind was a mist of vague impressions as she stared out the window at the sky.

An odd, measured noise drew her attention. Footsteps. Someone coming closer. His face swam into view on the periphery of her vision, and she remembered. The sky seemed strange to her because she hadn't seen it in days. The light still hurt her eyes.

She slept.

She woke, and she could process more. Not much. Her limbs were heavy; she realized that when she tried to move her hand to rub her eyes.

But they were unbound. That was strange too. Like the light outside.

Her hands were untied. Her body didn't work. And she was tired. So, so tired.

She slept.

He woke her next time. He was there, perched on her bed, and she couldn't quite remember all the reasons why that should make her nervous. In the low light of evening, he looked almost benign. His expression was not malicious or condescending. His touch was soft. He cupped her head, helping her sit up enough to drink from a cup he held to her lips.

"Sip," he said, his voice gentle.

It wasn't water. It was broth. He helped her drink the whole cup. By the end, her eyelids were drooping again.

"Don't worry, angel," he said. "You'll be strong again soon."

Then she remembered. Strong again. So he could hurt her again. So he could drain her again. Already, she could see the endless loop playing out.

She felt an overwhelming despair before sleep claimed her again.

She woke. She slept. She woke. She gained her strength back in increments, nursed back to health by this monster.

He'd told her his name. Jasper. Bella didn't like to use it. Jasper didn't sound like a good name for the devil.

"How long have I been in here?" she asked when she decided she would speak again. He hadn't pushed her, and hadn't said anything except to issue instructions.

"Almost two days."

She'd been missing a week then. Bella thought of her parents. Was it worse or better for them now than it had been five years ago. Then, they'd had to wait and watch for days, wondering if she would live or die. Now, they must have been beside themselves, worrying she was already dead somewhere.

When she woke up five years ago, it wasn't only her life that had changed. Her mother's eyes didn't sparkle quite as bright, as though she'd lost some of the childish innocence Bella loved about her. Her father looked anxious instead of just sad and out of his depth.

Bella wondered what this would do to her parents, and her hatred of the monster doubled. She tried to sit up—she didn't want to have to depend on him for everything—but her body was far too lethargic.

The asshole noticed. "I know it's frustrating. There's not really anything wrong with you. With blood loss, it's a matter of time to recuperate. Your body has to replace what you lost."

She turned her head to stare at him, incredulous that he could recite that so calmly. As though she had somehow misplaced her blood, and he hadn't pinned her in his iron grip and taken it from her forcibly. His eyes gleamed a bright, supernatural shade of red she had no words for. It wasn't even blood red.

The bastard cocked his head, looking at her. "You're angry."

Bella's cheek twitched as she glared up at him. She was a lot of things just then, but she was pissed as hell, too. She was pissed that he was so calm. She was pissed that he was taking care of her. She was pissed that her bed was so comfortable, and that her body wouldn't cooperate, and that her death would kill off more of the light in her parents' eyes.

"Would you have taken Cynthia if I hadn't found you in the mall?" she asked. It was one of a million questions she wanted to demand answers for, and maybe it was the most important question. If she saved that dear, innocent baby from this fate, then maybe all of this was worth it.

"I've never lied to you," the prick said. "I really had every intention of returning the girl to whomever she belonged to." He raised an eyebrow. "Who is she to you?"

Bella pressed her lips into a thin line.

He looked amused. "So stubborn. What is it about that question you don't like?"

"Her name in your mouth." She tried to hold her tongue but found she couldn't. She didn't have enough energy to worry about his delicate sensibilities. He was a monster. He knew it. She knew it. What was the point of denying it? "I hate that you know what she looks like. I hate that you've touched her."

She pressed her lips together again, realizing too late she'd said too much. What if he was intending to use her words against her? If there was a chance he knew how to find Cynthia, would he use her to get what he wanted out of Bella?

And what the hell did he want with her anyway?

What drove her more crazy than anything else was the fact that she couldn't figure out what this game was all about. Okay. He wanted to feed off her several times. She supposed she could understand that, but there was something else going on.

"I promise, the little girl will never be in danger on my account," he said. "Now will you tell me?"

"If I don't?"

He smirked. "Do you want me to say I'll make you? Would that fit your definition of a monster better?"

"You fit my definition of a monster just fine," she snapped, and then she flinched, figuring she had to be pushing her luck.

He chuckled. He took a step forward. He hadn't moved in so long, it startled her. Bella shrank back before she could help herself. But there was nowhere to go, of course. He took one step after another toward her, his blazing red eyes intent on her, and there was nothing she could do.

Bella pressed herself as far back against the bed as she could. He kept coming. He got on the bed and straddled her. She pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth and struggled not to scream. No part of him was touching her. He held himself aloft, one arm on either side of her head. Yet, her skin crawled with the now all too familiar sense of ugliness and disgust. She turned her head away from him, screwing her eyes shut.

"Tell me something," he said, his voice low and smooth near her ear. He'd leaned down enough so that his hair brushed her cheek, and Bella flinched at the contact. "Have I hurt you?"

She huffed, incredulous.

"The bite hurt," he said. "I know that. It's regrettable, but it's a necessity. I _am_ a vampire. There's no getting around that part. But other than that, have I hurt you?"

She was wounded. She was mangled. Her skin was criss-crossed with ugliness she couldn't see, but she could feel. Yes, it hurt. All of it hurt so much.

But not the way he was talking about.

"You said you would," she said with a gasp, breathless from her too-quick heartbeat. "If I didn't obey you."

"If you wouldn't eat or drink," he said. "I would have to make you, and I couldn't do that entirely without pain. But that's food. That's sustenance. Have I ever hurt you simply because I wanted to? Because you didn't answer me?"

She didn't answer. He huffed, and that odd, sweet burst of cool air almost helped clear her thoughts. In another second, his intimidating presence was gone. He was standing again. Across the room. "There's no need for me to hurt you if you won't answer me today. I have all the time in the world to get the answers I want."

Bella sat up again slowly. She was shaky now, not just because she was scared but because the rush of adrenaline had taken more energy than she had.

"You need to rest," he said.

"I don't want to rest."

"You need to rest," he said again. He walked out the door, locking it behind him.

Bella hated the vulnerability of sleep. Sleep took her anyway.

 _ **~Edward~**_

He had been to Seattle and back several times. He'd searched the woods as well as he could between his other responsibilities. He didn't tell the rest of his family, but they knew.

"He could have taken her anywhere," Rosalie said, appearing beside him one night as he ran.

"I know."

"They found Tyler Crowley's body. In New York."

Edward felt a twinge of surprise at that. The monster had left the boy's body to be found?

"So it's okay, what he does to them? Because their parents will have closure?" he bit out.

"It's more than most of our victims' families get." Rosalie had never separated herself from the rest of their species even though she and Carlisle were the only two vampires Edward knew who had never fed. She knew it was in her innate instinct, and she wouldn't forgive herself for it.

Edward gave a grunt of frustration. "Are you trying to stop me or are you trying to help me? I can't get a read on you."

"I want to help you."

"Help me find him or help me by getting me to realize it's not my responsibility to save the world?"

He listened to her thoughts as they ran in silence for a few minutes. She spoke out loud even though she knew he could hear her thoughts. "You hold Carlisle on a pedestal for his compassion, yet he's the one who's friends with others of our kind. All things considered, he's very social for a vampire. Each and every one of them is a mass murderer." He was too, she didn't say out loud. So was Emmett.

Hell, Esme had racked up quite a body count before she got her thirst under control.

"This one is inhumane," Edward hissed. "Yes, it's in our nature to kill, but to be cruel?"

"You think it's not cruel?" Rosalie huffed. "You want Carlisle to help you with this useless endeavour—finding a vampire and a human who could realistically be anywhere in the world—because this girl's father is his friend. But each of the humans _our_ friends murder has a father, a mother, friends, babies who will grow up orphans because of us." She shook her head. "I'm not without sympathy. You can make what comparisons you want, call us vegetarians, but there's a difference. This isn't like a vegetarian being outraged that chickens are being slaughtered inhumanely. Say what you will, but chickens don't have complex minds. They don't have a conscience. They aren't humans."

She paused again, searching for the right words. "This was how it started before. When you went hunting for inhumane humans." Another pause. "Carlisle and I have our differences, Edward, and some days, I can't decide if I love him or I hate him. But you leaving us? That broke him. It broke Esme, and I won't even talk about what it did to Emmett. Our family is what keeps us humane, because god knows the rest of our kind wouldn't think twice about what this one is doing."

"Then why are you helping me?" he asked, because it was her intention to help. She was planning to cut northeast so he could cover northwest of Seattle.

"Mostly because I don't think you'll find him. It's a needle in a haystack, and even for a vampire, those aren't good odds." She breathed in deep, scenting the air. He heard the dark turn to her thoughts. "But you know as well as I do what that girl has already been through before any supernatural monster came into her life. That's enough. It's more than any being—animal, human, or vampire—should have to withstand."

If Edward's stomach were still capable, it would have churned then. He ran faster.

 _ **~Jasper~**_

The girl was stubborn. As she recouped, she resisted Jasper's offers to help her bathe. She'd managed minimal cleanliness left to her own devices, curled up in the bathroom tub. He wondered if she realized he could hear her groans and pants of effort from across the house.

Shame and modesty were such uniquely human virtues. He'd told her the sight of her naked body would have done nothing to him, but as it was with most humans, she vehemently declined his offer of help.

Now, well before she should have been out of bed without assistance, he could hear her slow progress across the floor. One step. Two steps. Then she panted. One step, two steps. Then a small grunt of effort. Of course he admired her. She was a foolish little creature, but she was brave. He almost applauded when he heard the shower turn on.

Well, good for her.

She'd been in the shower about fifteen minutes when disaster struck. He heard her gasp and her short scream, then the muted sound of her slight body falling to the floor of the shower. He frowned and waited. He held his breath, lest the smell of blood seeping through broken skin reach him.

It didn't. It appeared she hadn't hurt herself that badly. Still, in her weakened state, she was struggling to pull herself back upright again. He shook his head. If only she'd been able to accept her own human frailty. Did she not understand her own species?

He ascended the stairs. He wasn't at all certain she'd accept his help even now, stuck as she was on the floor of the shower. He took each step slowly, giving her every chance to regain her strength. But that wasn't how human bodies worked. She had limited energy and had likely expended all of it to get herself in the shower in the first place. She'd probably collapsed—her limbs, as of yet, unable to keep her upright.

That was the way of it. It took their bodies two weeks or so to fully recover from that kind of blood loss. It took two weeks for him to begin to get very thirsty.

He entered the bathroom and could see her in the shower stall. She clung to the towel bar, trying to pull herself up only to sink back down again. She was gasping for breath, tiny whines emanating from the back of her throat. He could feel her frustration and her waning energy like a weight in his own limbs.

Jasper picked up the towel from the lip of the tub and opened the shower door. She screamed, realizing only then he was there. She skittered backward, wedging herself into the corner of the stall.

"Come on now, angel," he said, keeping his voice to a coo. Her emotions were all over the map, out of control. Panic, he realized.

"Get away from me," she hollered.

Of course, he came forward. "Enough of that."

"Don't touch me." She lashed out as he encroached on her.

It took him a moment to realize what she was doing. Self defense. Martial arts. Whatever she had, she threw at him. Ah, adrenaline. If it had kicked in only minutes before, she wouldn't have needed his help. But now it gave her the strength to fight. Oh, it would have worked, too, if he'd been human. He'd have been the one on the floor in a fetal position.

But he wasn't human. His skin was like stone, and with as much force as she was using, she was going to break something sooner than later.

"Enough of this," he said, taking her by the arm and turning her so her back was up against his chest. He locked his arms around her. He would have slapped her, but it would have unhinged her jaw.

Again, his gift seemed to have no real effect. She did calm. A little. A very little. Enough that she stopped a moment.

Not enough that she gained all of her senses back. Or if she was thinking clearly, she simply didn't care anymore. She knew she couldn't escape him. She fought anyway.

"Get your hands off me. You, bastard. Don't touch me." She kicked her legs. Again, if he'd been human, she would have broken his hold.

Curious, bewildering creature.

Jasper reached up and turned the water all the way cold. Bella yelped as the icy water hit her. She kicked again, but he held her tightly.

"Do you know what a bruise is, angel?" He shifted his hold on her so she wouldn't injure herself in her writhing and flailing. "It's blood vessels bursting beneath your skin." He put his lips to her ear. "It makes you smell so sweet."

"Get your fucking hands off me," she growled between clenched teeth. Jasper could practically taste the disgust rolling off her, and he thought he understood why.

Her body was littered with scars. Someone had hurt her very badly. Someone who wasn't him.

She sagged in his grip and gave one last kick, fury thick in her emotion.

It was the worst thing she could have done. Her skin caught on a bit of broken tile, slicing the side of her foot. It was nothing, really. Barely a scratch, but it was more than enough.

Unprepared, already riled from the bursting blood vessels beneath her skin, the monster within took hold of Jasper's senses. He took hold of Bella's hair and tugged her head back. She shrieked in pain. He dipped his head, his mouth open, venom pooling.

Just in time, he got a hold of the unthinking, instinct-driven demon within him. He was better than this demon. He had conquered it centuries before.

He was angry at the human girl for testing him like this. He was angry at her for smelling this good. He was angry that she'd been so careless. He hadn't been trying to hurt her. He could have left her there on the floor of the shower. He could have left there there unable to move, and now he was fighting for control.

With a growl, he got to his feet, yanking her up into his arms. He was downstairs in the blink of an eye, and at the door of her basement prison. He went down the stairs and threw her away from him to the floor in a heap.

"No. No," she yelled, raising her head when he was already at the door at the top of the stairs. "Don't. Don't leave me in the dark again. Please. Please don't."

For a fraction of a second, he turned back to glare at her. Stupid little girl. She was curled on the floor, propping herself up on one hand, the other clutching the towel to her chest. She looked pathetic, pale and shivering, and soaked to the bone.

He slammed the door, leaving her in the darkness, and ran for the clear air of the forest.

* * *

 **A/N: Welp.**

 **How are you guys?**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Tread lightly, my friends. Let me know if you need me to answer your questions before you go on.**

* * *

 _ **~Bella~**_

Bella fell asleep out of pure exhaustion. She was petrified with fear and frozen to the bone. She barely had enough energy left to wrap the towel around her nude body before sleep took her.

The first thing she noticed when she was awake enough to notice things was that she was warm and reasonably comfortable. For a long time, she kept her eyes closed, wondering if she'd finally gone out of her mind. She'd fallen into unconsciousness with the cold, dirty floor beneath her cheek. Now, her cheek rested on soft cloth.

It took her minutes to figure out she was still nude. There was a blanket wrapped around her—possibly two. Her eyes came open wide as a jolt of panic went through her. She took a mental inventory of her body.

She ached, but only where she'd fought him. She was whole and hadn't been harmed. Not physically anyway.

"Why are you relieved?"

Bella started, clutching the blankets to her as her eyes took in the rest of the room. A grand living room lit by the light of a glowing fire.

The blond devil was sitting in a chair watching her, one leg crossed over the other, eerie red eyes glowing in the semi-darkness. Bella shuddered and closed her eyes again, turning her face away. He chuckled. "Now you're disgusted."

"Where are my clothes?" she asked, not bothering to hide the ice in her voice.

"In the bathroom upstairs where you left them." His voice was calm, though she thought she could see a smirk on his lips. "I didn't think you'd appreciate my dressing you. No one should see someone else's body without specific permission."

She opened her eyes and fixed him with a baleful glare. "Did you just remember that, or are you full of shit? You walked in on me in the shower."

"You needed help. You weren't going to get off the floor of that shower if I didn't help you." He tilted his head. "You know that."

"I'd have rather stayed on the floor than let you touch me," she snapped.

He hummed. "And if you'd curled up and rested on the floor, I'd have let you be. But you didn't. You kept trying to get up. You would have hurt yourself." His eyes narrowed. "Like you did. Or you would have run yourself ragged." He sighed with melodrama. "Then any number of things could have happened. If you passed out at the bottom of the shower, you could have breathed water into your lungs. There's even the off-chance you could have drowned. Or given yourself a heart attack. Any of that is possible. Humans are fragile creatures."

"And vampires aren't." It wasn't a question; just Bella stating the obvious out loud, reminding herself she couldn't hope to hurt him.

"Fragile is one thing we most certainly aren't."

"Can anything kill you?" she asked, bitter.

"Another vampire."

Her cheek twitched. "You're chatty tonight."

He paused a beat. "I owe you an apology. I lost control this morning, and it wasn't my intention."

Bella didn't answer right away. Truth be told, she'd lost control too. Overwrought and frustrated at her body's weakness already, when he'd appeared in the shower with her, she'd lost control of her fear and anger.

The bastard cocked his head at her. "You're regretting something. Why?"

She bristled. "What? Can you read minds too?"

"Emotions," he said. "If I could read minds, I wouldn't have to ask you why you're feeling what you're feeling, now would I?"

Condescending prick. She pulled the blankets tighter around her and sat up. "Can all vampires do that? Feel emotions?"

"No. I've never met anyone else who can do what I do. Other vampires have other talents, though. Most don't, but some do." He shook his head, dismissing that, and looked at her. "One more question."

She didn't even have to think about it. "Why are you doing this to me?"

He looked bemused and not at all surprised. "Have you ever read the Ender's Game series?"

Annoyance flickered in her, but she played along. "I've read _Ender's Game_."

"In the second book, Ender becomes what's known as a Speaker for the Dead. Essentially, when a person dies, it's a speaker's job to learn about their life and perform a eulogy of sorts. But it's a more honest kind of eulogy. The speaker doesn't judge. He just tells the dead person's life as it was."

Bella broke out in a cold sweat and looked away from him, feeling dizzy. How calmly he spoke about her impending death. She swallowed down a lump of bile. "So you want to know me before you kill me?"

"In a nutshell."

She shuddered. "And how does keeping me in the dark for days help you get to know me?"

"Humans aren't particularly honest creatures. Not to others, and especially not to themselves. To reach that kind of honesty, to truly know a person, a little, ah...deconstruction is required."

It was good she hadn't eaten in awhile. The way Bella's gut twisted, she would have lost everything she had in her belly. "And you don't think you're sick?" She could feel his eyes on her but refused to look at him.

"Let me ask you this. Would you prefer I enjoy your blood as you might enjoy a steak? You savor the flavor, enjoy the meal, but do you ever think about the cow? Do you wonder what kind of a life it led, what family it might have left behind? Would you prefer I care so little about my meal that I would toss your body to the side like inedible remnants and never think on you again in my lifetime?"

Bella turned her head to gape at him. "How about I prefer you don't fucking eat me, asshole?"

He shook his head, his lips quirked in a small smile. "I am what I am. Do you blame me for my own existence? Or the existence of my species? I assure you, neither of those things was my idea. Nor, mind you, is it my fault that humans are so arrogant as to believe they're at the top of the food chain. Do you think an antelope in the wild is surprised when it's chased by a lion?"

"The lion doesn't fucking torture the antelope."

"And I am not a lion any more than you're an antelope. We are two thinking, feeling species. We each come with an inherent nature—biological coding for both survival and propagation. And yet, each of our species has evolved a thinking mind. My thinking mind won't allow me to merely consume my food without acknowledging what I'm taking from the world. My gift—often a curse which, again, I didn't ask for—makes it so I feel everything you feel. Your thinking brain makes you indignant at the idea of death."

"Indignant?" Anger was rising quick and furious in her. It fought past even the lethargy of her body and coiled her muscles tight as though she would spring at him if she didn't know better. "I'm not fucking indignant, like you stole a fucking parking space from me. What you're doing to me is torture. I'm pissed because of the hours and days and months and years you're stealing from me. I'm pissed that you're dragging this out. I'm pissed that I'm the one that has to know monsters like you exist. Fuck. You."

He regarded her without changing expression. "Let me rephrase my question from earlier. Would you prefer I was like whomever gave you those scars?"

Bella actually cried out, rocked by the words. It was worse than if he'd yanked her blankets away. She felt nude and exposed, the old sensation of filth crawling over her skin returning with a vengeance. "What the hell do you know about those scars?"

"First, you should know, I had no intention of looking. It was difficult not to, though. You were struggling, and vampires have perfect recall." He sounded so blasé they could have been talking about the weather. "However, as long as I've been alive, I've had time to learn how to analyze wounds. You have scars consistent with trauma. You've been very badly beaten. Fists, certainly, but I would say you likely had an encounter with glass."

Bella shuddered, closing her eyes tightly against the memories that assaulted her then. There had been broken glass in the alley.

"Some of the other scars are consistent with being dragged along a flat, rough surface like concrete," he continued, his voice still measured. Factual. "Then there are the surgical scars. There was internal damage to be repaired. You—"

"Shut up. Shut up. Shut. Up." Bella hated the tears that welled in her eyes. She hated the memories she couldn't push away, and most of all, she hated him. God, she'd never hated anything as much as she hated him right then, and she hoped he could feel every iota of it.

Adrenaline surged in her and she stood, blanket clasped around her as she glared at him. "Is this part of your stupid game? You think what happened to me says something about _me_? Something you want to immortalize and remember with your perfect recall for as long as long as your asshole species lives? Is that why you're asking? Is that what you want to know?"

His glowing eyes remained pinned on hers. His placid face infuriated her. "What do you want to know? That I was seventeen and bored out of my mind, so I wandered away from my girlfriends? That it took me almost a whole block to realize this asshole was standing too close, and I had the brilliant idea to turn down an alley to get away from him? Too bad it was his job to herd the stupid ass teenager to his extra creepy friends. Stupid, fucking lamb for the slaughter.

"There were four of them, but don't worry. One only watched. Is that what you want to know? Or do you want to know what it was like living through what they did to me? They left me for dead. I almost died four times in twenty-four hours, in fact. And I survived all that bullshit only to run into you."

He was staring at her, and something had changed in his eyes. She didn't care. She was too amped up to stop now. She really hoped he could feel every damn thing she was feeling now. The remembered horror. Her utter hate of him. Let him fucking drown in it, because god knew she did. Every goddamned day, she did.

"And I get this feeling like you think you're better than them," she said, tone scathing.

She stepped toward him. "Not that kind of monster, right? Bull-fucking-shit. What is it you think this is, huh? You think what you're doing to me isn't rape? Is that all you think rape is? What you can do with your penis? Fuck you, you all-knowing asshole. You're in my head, and my heart. You're taking pieces of me that don't fucking belong to you. You are _forcing_ me to stay here, forcing me to give you what you want. You're no fucking better than them. In fact, you may be worse. What they did to me was over in twenty minutes. When does this end? You inhuman piece of crap."

By then, she was right on top of him, towering over him for once as he remained unearthly still in his chair, simply staring up at her. His face didn't move, didn't twitch. He just stared, his expression unfathomable.

Bella felt herself beginning to tremble, the adrenaline and fury beginning to wane. She turned away from her monster and fled for the bathroom, for her clothes, before what little strength she had ran out.

 _ **~Edward~**_

Esme was already home as Edward hit the long, winding drive leading up to their house. She was thinking about him, worrying. That wasn't new—especially not lately—but the color of her thoughts was different today. Edward cocked his head, listening.

He threw the car into park and took off when he had enough of the message. Running was faster. He was in the house in half a minute, in the kitchen where Esme waited.

"Charlie called Carlisle," he said, prompting her for the rest of the story.

Esme nodded. "Bella Swan walked into a police station near the Canadian border. Alone. Apparently unharmed. She's refusing medical attention, and Charlie wanted Carlisle's opinion."

Edward couldn't get his head around this information. "He let her go?" It was nonsensical.

"What we know is she's alive and whole."

"But that makes no sense."

"Edward." Esme stepped to him and took him by the arms. "It's over. Her father and mother are on their way to collect her. She's surrounded by other humans. You can lay your burden down."

Edward replayed the few minutes he spent with Jasper over and over in his head. He remembered his thoughts of the boy—Tyler. Most of all, he remembered the ambrosia that was the mere scent of Bella Swan's blood.

"I'm missing something," he muttered. "This is not over."

"Edward-"

But he was already off like a shot. The highway, he thought. He could run along the highway until he found them.

"Edward." His mother of sorts called from behind him. Far behind him. He was too fast for Esme. "Edward, stop."

If only for the love he bore her, he stopped. He could afford a few minutes.

"What are you hoping to accomplish?" she asked, catching up with him. "What good can come of this?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. I need more information."

"It's over, Edward."

"It's not."

"Edward-"

"We're responsible. Why can't any of you understand?"

"You're not responsible. Not for any of them. You're not the reason anyone lives or dies. Edward, how long are you going to pay for what you are?"

Edward clenched his jaw. "I will make her safe again. This one. I need to be sure."

"There's no certainty. Not for anyone."

"I need to try," he said.

It wasn't the first time he ran away from his mother, hearing her pained thoughts get further and further away.

* * *

 **A/N: Welp. That happened.**

 **How you doing out there, kiddos?**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Hello, duckies. How are you?**

* * *

 **~Bella~**

He hadn't talked to her for five days after she yelled at him. He didn't take her back to the dark room. He brought her food and didn't force her to eat it. She'd tested him; she hadn't eaten for two days. On the the third day, her willpower gave in to the delicious smells of what he brought her, and she ate until she thought she was going to be sick.

She knew he watched her when she slept. She had the nightmare about the staring eyes, but when she bolted upright, scared out of sleep, and looked to the corner of the room, the chair was empty. One night, she turned the chair around. It was facing forward when she woke.

It was the fifth night before their game of silence chicken broke. He was there when she woke, staring. She glared back. His face was a mask.

"Get dressed. Shower if you want."

"Why?" she asked, voice rough from sleep.

"Field trip," he said, and, before she could blink, he was gone.

For five days, she'd waited for a comeuppance for what she said to him. Something had changed. It was bad that she couldn't tell if he was still torturing her.

Was it torture to be held in an opulent room with a comfortable bed, warm blankets, delicious meals, and a shelf full of books? Five days of silence had left her muddled, confused, and more on edge than ever.

What could she do? She showered and put on the plainest things she could find—jeans and a sweater so soft, it had to be expensive. It was green, and she'd never owned anything that lovely.

Then he was there again. He laid the jacket he brought on the bed and stepped away from it. When she asked where they were going, he said, "Out." She put on the jacket and followed him down the stairs—he made no move to grab her—through the house and into a garage that held cars like some people stabled horses. She felt as though she were marching to her own death.

They were in a mansion in the middle of nowhere. It wasn't as creepy as it could have been. Out of place—didn't people build cabins in the woods? On the outside, it was well lit, but when they drove away, it was many miles before they saw more than a small cluster of buildings.

He said he was taking her somewhere safe. Bella didn't believe it.

He said, his voice light and easy, "No human could hope to kill me. No group of humans has a prayer of a chance. If pressed, I'm capable of killing several humans in a single second, and I'm impervious to bullets, knives—anything you could think to throw at me.

"I'm not trying to threaten you or yours. I'm merely stating facts. If you send people after me, you must pray they don't find me. If they do find me, I will be forced to act. Do you understand?"

She stared at him, horrorstruck. He must have taken that as understanding because he continued. "We talked once about biological instinct. Despite being stronger than humans, vampires prefer to remain out of sight. We are content to be mythical creatures. In fact, some have gone out of their way to create mythos. Vampire stories exist in nearly every culture, yet you'd be hard pressed to find someone who actually believes we're real.

"So, the problem you face is two-fold. To tell someone what I am is to risk being thought insane. And there is some small threat from a ruling class of vampires. Telling a human what we are is against our rules. If they found out—oh, yes—they'd put me down, or they would try, in any event. But they'd come after you and whomever you tell as well."

And, as he'd said many times now, no human, no matter how strong, could hope to survive versus a vampire. Bella blinked, listening, taking it all in, but not thinking about any of it. Her mind was a blank container to be filled, because she couldn't wrap her mind around what was happening.

On the outskirts of a city, he pulled over, and drove a short way along a dirt road. It was the dead of night, and Bella's heart began to pound. When he pulled to a stop, she had to swallow hard to keep from crying out.

He reached over and took her hand in an iron grip. It had been warm enough in the car that she'd shrugged out of her jacket hours before. He pushed the sweatshirt up her arm, exposing her wrist, and stroked the skin there with a reverent touch.

She wanted so much to yank her arm out of his grasp. Her breath came in quick, sharp gasps. He'd been lying about letting her leave. She knew it. She was going to die tonight.

"I know I shouldn't, but if it's any consolation, this will be the last thing I ever take from you without your permission," he said.

She screamed again when he bit into her flesh—a short shriek. She screwed her eyes shut, her body turned away as much as possible from the sight. The worst thing wasn't the pain. Save for the incredible burn right around the bite site, that was bearable enough. The worst thing was feeling her lifeforce drain away while she sat helpless. Her energy began to ebb.

He stopped. He pulled away with a gasp, wheezing as though he were out of breath. He shuddered and moaned.

The burning sensation got worse, began to shoot up her arm. With a sigh, the monster returned his lips to her arm. This time, he didn't bite. He sucked. He sucked the fire right out of her. He sighed again and lathed her skin with his tongue. The burn, the sting of the bite—all of it disappeared in an instant.

She was still curled away from him, lips pressed together to muffle the whimpers she hated almost as much as she hated him. She shuddered at the feel of his ice-cold lips on her tender skin. A kiss, she thought with disgust. He kissed her there, sighed once more, and let her go.

"There's a clearing just ahead, and a road," he said, staring straight forward. His voice was as maddeningly calm as ever, as though he hadn't just been sucking the blood from her body. "Take a right along the road. There's a police station in just a block or so." The sound of the car doors unlocking made Bella jump. "Go on, now."

Bella didn't move. Her mind raced. It had to be some trick.

"Why?" she asked when he didn't look at her.

"Go," was all he said.

She went, guided by his headlights. She walked forward, stumbling, shocked at the bite of the cold air on her face and reeling because there was no way this was happening. She wrapped her arms around herself, looking over her shoulder, wondering what the fuck this newest twist in the game was, waiting for him to run her over or something equally heinous.

He didn't. The headlights got further away. She reached the road still intact. Then the police station. She never stopped looking over her shoulder.

About sixteen hours and way too many questions later, she was in a hotel room with her parents. It was afternoon, but the curtains were drawn—she couldn't bear to look outside. She sat on a chair, her legs pulled up on the seat, her arms wrapped around her legs, and her head resting on her knees more often than not.

Deja-fucking-vu. How was she here again, staring at the wall while her parents spoke in soft, placating tones? She grit her teeth, trying not to flinch when her mother ran her fingers through her hair.

"Bella," Renee said in that small, heartbreaking voice Bella hated. "How can we know how to help you, if you won't talk to us?"

Bella rocked back and forth in her chair wondering if she would ever get used to feeling this overwhelmed and afraid. Or was this preferable to last time? Last time she woke up battered and confused and dying inside. She'd been empty—the kind of empty that ached endlessly. She had felt less than human—conquered and defeated.

It was coming. She could feel that desolate darkness on the horizon.

Her father knelt in front of her, trying to catch her eye. She looked away. She couldn't look at anyone.

"If you won't talk to the police, won't you at least let someone check you out at the hospital?" Charlie asked. "Then, if you decide to press charges later—"

"No." She shook her head a little too hard. She couldn't seem to get a handle on her reactions. "No. No hospitals." _Don't touch me. Don't touch me. Don't touch me._ "They're not going to find anything, okay?" Even her bruises from five days ago had all but disappeared.

"So he gets to get away with it?" Charlie asked, failing at keeping the frustration from his voice.

Bella laughed. It was a high-pitched, maniacal sound. She'd told them all—the police, her parents, everyone—that she had been held by a man, but beyond that, she wouldn't say anything else. She squeezed her eyes shut, but a tear streaked down her cheek anyway. "Yeah, he gets to get away with it."

"Bella—"

She got up, unable to bear them in her space anymore. "I don't want to talk about it, okay?"

"Okay. Okay," Renee said as though she were talking to one of the kids in her kindergarten class about to have a tantrum. "We won't talk about that. We'll get some sleep, and then…"

Bella finally looked up at both of her parents. "Then?"

"Well, where do you want to go, sweetheart?" Renee asked. "Do you want to go home?"

Bella sat down hard on the bed. Home. Home where she would always remember his eyes in the darkness. Home where she'd have to face Cynthia again—the little girl who trusted her nanny to keep her safe from monsters. Bella would have to remember the asshole walking hand in hand with the beautiful little girl who didn't know that kind of demon existed.

"I don't want to go home," she said, defeated. Her job, school, what few friends she had—the life she'd built from the ashes of who she'd been at seventeen was gone now.

Her parents looked relieved. "You could come live with Phil and me."

"You like being on the road with him," Bella said.

"I like you more," her mother countered.

Bella shook her head. "Chicago is too crowded for me right now." Her head was noisy. She needed peace.

"Maybe Forks will do you some good," Charlie said as though he could read her mind.

"Because Washington has done her so much good so far," her mother bit back.

Bella closed her eyes again as her parents debated the merits of her big city versus his tiny one. She was the only one in the room who knew it didn't matter. There was no such thing as safety. There never would be again.

 _ **~Edward~**_

He watched from the trees as Charlie Swan came out of the hotel room.

It hadn't taken long to find Bella and her parents. They'd chosen a hotel not far from the police station Bella had wandered into. Edward had spent the last twenty-four hours skulking in shadows just trying to glean more information.

She was traumatized. Anyone could see that, but she was, as Esme had promised, whole. When Charlie called Carlisle, he'd called to run down a list of observations about Bella's behavior. Carlisle had confirmed what anyone could plainly see. He couldn't tell if anything was wrong with the girl from Charlie's description. It was more likely she needed emotional help if she wasn't wounded.

And, of course, Charlie knew as well as Carlisle did that there was no way to force Bella into the hospital. It would do more harm than good. Being so helpless didn't sit well with Charlie. The man, curiously enough, didn't have a clear mind—not one Edward could read very well. Still, he knew the flavor of his thoughts. He knew could hear the frustration in his mental voice. He wanted a target. He wanted to protect his little girl.

Little did he realize his little girl, traumatized as she was, was the one protecting him.

Outside, Charlie expelled some of his restless energy pacing as he put his cell phone to his ear. "Hey, Billy."

Edward frowned out of habit. Billy Black—the man descendent from shifters. They were dangerous themselves. He didn't like the idea of them being involved with this girl in any way.

"Charlie. How's it going?" Billy Black asked when he answered, his tone somber.

"She's…" Charlie grunted, running a hand through his hair as he paced. "I don't know. She's too quiet, and I don't know what to say. I'm trying to be her father, not a cop, but she's making it hard. The longer she's quiet, the less likely we catch this son of a bitch."

"It's a hell of a thing. I don't know what to say."

"Yeah." Charlie stopped short. "She wants to come home with me."

Edward had heard the conversation between Bella and her parents, so he wasn't surprised by the news. It was perplexing. Edward knew very well what had happened to her when she was seventeen. Poor child had been living with her father all of a month when a trip to Port Angeles went terribly wrong. It was no surprise that she hadn't been back to Forks since then.

Who knew what was in the girl's head, but he was pleased by the answer. He could protect her better from Forks. She wouldn't have to know he was there. She _shouldn't_ have to know that there were more monsters out there. That her father associated with two different kinds of monsters. The girl would never sleep again, poor thing.

"That's a good thing, Charlie," Billy said, answering his friend.

"Is it?"

"You don't want her there?"

"Of course I want her there. I just… I'm good at the physical part. Like last…" He swallowed hard. "Like last time. I could carry her when she couldn't walk, and I could be down there in Phoenix to help her with physical therapy. I could help her research martial arts and self defense. I could do all that part. But what do I do this time?"

A long silence stretched out. Edward flexed his fists at his sides feeling equally helpless. He hadn't been able to catch the bastard's scent anywhere near the girl.

"I don't have words," Billy said. "I suppose you'll find out."

"Yeah. Guess so." He paused. "I don't understand her right now. She's spent so much of the last five years being an advocate. She's worked so hard to make sure this never happens to anyone else, but she'll let this guy get away with what he did when she knows damn well he'll just go after someone else?" The man visibly shuddered. "Or after her again?"

Billy sounded uncomfortable when he spoke. "Are you sure _that_ is what happened?"

"What else?" Charlie asked, his voice raw. "He didn't kidnap her for ransom, or political gain, or any other asinine thing. What else does an asshole like that want with a pretty girl? She says he let her go, so he's not a serial killer, and she's not his first. I feel that in my gut. So you tell me. What the hell do you think he wanted her for? To play house?"

Fury hit Edward so hard, the tree he was leaning against suffered. He had no idea if the blond bastard had hurt her that way. Some vampires did. He had heard that sex and blood was the ultimate high.

Yet another oddity, he hadn't heard from Bella, couldn't glean from her thoughts where she had been or why the blond bastard had let her go. Her mind was silent to him, though he had been able to hear how affected she was by the tremor in her voice.

Were there levels of monsters? If he'd raped her, did that make him a worse monster than he already was? And if so, was there some punishment worse than the death Edward had planned for him?

Edward supposed he wanted to believe there were levels of monsters. Did that excuse him for what he was? What he had done?

Well, it was no matter. His father hadn't put him down, but he wouldn't make the mistake with this devil. Though that would have to wait. He would protect the human girl first. It was a twist of luck that she had made the job easier for him.

 _ **~Jasper~**_

Vampires were more than human. That was simple fact. They came from human, but they were more. Better. The end of the evolutionary line—perfect minds, perfect bodies. They were perfect hunters with superfluous gifts—a bewitching aura that lured humans in, sweet breath that muddied their minds. In all their years on the planet, the humans had achieved a longer and longer lifespan—a hundred years, now. Vampires were immortal.

The little human girl was different. She wasn't a vampire by a long shot, but she wasn't quite human. Jasper had killed a lot of humans. So many. None had been like this girl. There was something about the way she could dim his talent. Beyond that, she was strong.

It wasn't as though he could blame the humans for their cowardice. Strength of character was yet another human vice. As though it was some detriment to who they were to acknowledge fear. What was so terrible about fear, especially for those who had much to be afraid of? Yet strength of character, of will, was held up as some kind of marker of superiority. Humans thought too much for beings whose lives were over in the blink of an eye.

Of course, Jasper could never quite give up thinking. In his human life, he'd been a philosopher.

He had been alive a long time, and alone for almost as long. Here and there, he'd had someone. Most recently a love triangle, of all things. Maria—a rare spitfire of a vampire engaged in an endless war to the south. She was the one who had given him the more American name—Jasper. And Peter—one of her soldiers. A beauty of a boy who had caught Jasper's eye amongst an army of others. Never anyone who stayed, or, more often than not, no one he wanted to stay with.

But to make a mate. Now, there was an idea he'd not considered before.

Newborns were volatile, though. And physically strong. Stronger than he was. Oh, he was cleverer than an erratic newborn, but where was the point in having to put her down?

No.

If this was going to work, she couldn't hate him. That was why he let her go. Humans were malleable. All they did was change their mind, and he could change hers. It would take time, he thought, to convince her they could be friends.

Well. He had time.

* * *

 **A/N: Hmmm.**

 **Many thanks to songster, MoH, Packy, Eleanor, Julie, and Mina for making my docs such a wonderful place.**

 **And you, my lovelies. You give me life with your response. So, uh...how goes?**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: This Monday SUCKED. Let's make it better. Or worse. I can't tell. Well, I guess it depends on who you are.**

* * *

 _ **~Bella~**_

Fucking Forks.

Bella hadn't seen the outside for days. She peered through a crack in the blinds from the second floor of her father's house. It was a mistake. The woods of the Pacific Northwest were dense and dark as night even when the sun was highest in the sky. Staring into the darkness even for a second, Bella felt sure something was staring back at her. Something with glowing red eyes. She yanked the blinds closed again and retreated to the furthest corner of her bed.

It was no good. She could curl into as small a ball as possible, and that wouldn't keep the anxiety from crawling up her back along her spine. She clapped her hands over her ears, trying to block out the voices screaming at her. The monsters of the dark leered at her from her memories.

"It's not real. It's not real. It's not real," she chanted to herself. She was shaking hard—gasping for breath. She forced herself to open her eyes and cast her glance wildly around the room. She needed to ground herself, needed to remember where she was.

This was a problem considering the room she lived in wasn't hers. Well, technically it was hers. She'd lived here when she was a baby and the month and a half she spent with her father when she was seventeen. Nothing in here was really hers.

The laptop. Her laptop on the desk. That was hers.

She was in her room in her father's house. Not the dirty, dingy alley in Port Angeles. Not the pitch black basement. This bed was a twin pushed into the corner. The mattress was lumpy. This wasn't the opulent bedroom with soft sheets.

Her breath slowed. Bella leaned against the wall, trying not to cry and failing.

No. Between Forks and her mother's most recent home in Chicago, Forks wasn't ideal. Chicago wasn't much better, but at least there were no dark forests.

"Bella?"

Bella jumped at the sound of another person in the house. Her father was home. This was his house, and he wasn't going to hurt her. "Hey, Dad," she called. Her voice didn't shake too badly. That was something.

"You up for dinner?" he called.

She smiled a little. A very little. He tried this every day. "I already ate."

It was a lie. They both knew it. His pause before he answered said everything. "All right."

And that was why Bella chose Forks. Charlie didn't hover.

 _ **~Edward~**_

Edward just happened to drop by with lunch for Carlisle and his nurses at the same time Charlie was there. It had been two weeks since the girl had come home.

He smiled and chatted with the nurses, handing out the sandwiches he'd brought. All the while, he listened with the better part of his brain to the conversation going on in his father's office.

"What you're describing is consistent with depression and posttraumatic stress disorder," Carlisle said in his quiet, consoling voice. "Which is to be expected under the circumstances."

"I've tried to talk to her about seeing someone, or even talking to me or her mother," Charlie said. "She shuts me down every time."

"You probably know more about the therapeutic process than I do. She has to be willing for it to work."

Charlie sighed. The color of his thoughts was as disgruntled as Edward felt. "I don't know what coping is supposed to look like at this point."

"Mental health is frustrating to grapple with, particularly when someone is physically healthy."

To Edward's surprise, Carlisle's thoughts strayed to him. It was a brief thought; one his father quickly pushed away, but not quick enough.

Somewhat ironic given the circumstances. One human father and one vampire father each worrying about their child's mental health. Though, to his credit, most of Carlisle's concern was centered on Bella. He simply had the capacity for a lot of concern.

"Is she eating?" Carlisle asked. "Sleeping?"

Charlie sighed. "I don't know. I hear her moving around at all hours of the night, and when I wake up, every light in the house is on."

His thoughts flashed clear for a moment, and Edward glimpsed a memory. Charlie, worried because Bella was too quiet one afternoon, opened the door to her room. The twin bed had been pushed into the corner of the room, and Bella was curled up on the far side, her back against the wall, her expression contorted even in sleep.

"She eats enough that she isn't collapsing, but I know she doesn't eat as often as she tells me she does," Charlie said. "When am I supposed to push? When am I supposed to get more involved?"

"She knows you're there, Charlie. From everything you've told me about your Bella, she's strong."

"No one should have to be this strong."

"No," Carlisle agreed, his voice quiet and sad. "No, they shouldn't."

 _ **~0~**_

He had a job. They all worked. It was the thing to do; how they fit in with the humans. Carlisle was a doctor—because he was a masochist and a good man, despite being a vampire.

They also owned an auto shop. Rosalie like worked on cars; she was good at it. However, getting a job at an already established shop was dangerous. It wasn't atypical for a mechanic to get a little banged up. It was a blood, sweat, and tears kind of job.

So, Rosalie was head mechanic. Emmett was, ostensibly, a mechanic too. Rosalie could handle all the work they got easily enough. Emmett could follow instructions. Esme ran the business side of things.

Rosalie had often said it should be Edward working with her in the shop. He loved cars. It was one of the few things they bonded over. But Edward's family worried about him often. It was to be expected, given that he had run from them not so long ago.

The town of Forks was tiny. There weren't many places he could hide from his family within city limits. He'd chosen a bookstore. He liked the atmosphere. Mostly, people didn't worry about their trials and tribulations in bookstores. Their thoughts were filled with other people's words. Synopses, the first few pages. He liked listening to children read stories; he loved the worlds they saw in a few simple words. It was his sanctuary from the hell that was his gift.

He was arranging a new display when his sanctuary was invaded, his peace shattered. The door opened, and the wind from outside blew the scent of whatever human had walked in toward him.

His mind was capable of so many things. He could logic through the most complex math problem, give a detailed recitation of the exact dates of the English monarchy from its earliest inception, and write a ten page term paper on some complicated matter of physics all at the same time. But in that moment, his thinking mind switched off save for one hard fact: there was prey nearby, and he wanted it. He wanted it, and he would have it.

Automatically, his brilliant mind turned to his only goal. He crouched, his shoulders hunched, his every muscle coiled to spring. His ears perked. There were five people in the shop. The cashier, the manager in the back office, two browsing customers—a mother and her small son—and his prey.

It was possible he needn't worry about the manager. The other four would be dead in an instant. It was a small shop, and he could kill very quickly. The little one and its mother first. They needn't see what was coming. Let them die in the midst of a shared moment—the mother was introducing her son to Curious George.

The cashier. Jessica. A college student taking the semester off because her mother needed help with her ailing grandmother. Jessica liked him. It would be horrible for her to have to see him kill in the second before she died. The shock would be enough to silence her scream, and then her neck would be broken.

Then the girl.

He could see, as he peered around the corner of the shelf, it was a girl who had walked in. His prey. This creature with the most alluring scent he'd ever come across. He needed it. Wanted it. He would have every sweet drop. He would take her away—go to where he could savor the flavor; where her screams wouldn't draw attention. He readied his body to leap.

His prey looked up. Some tiny part of Edward registered a disconcerted reaction, but it was enough. Enough that he stopped himself from springing. Enough that he drew back, though he growled low under his breath as he did so.

The face was familiar even though this was the first time he'd seen it with his own eyes. He'd seen the face on the news and in Charlie Swan's thoughts. Isabella Swan. Bella.

For weeks on end, Bella had been the focus of his life. He spent much of his time pacing the woods outside her home, patrolling. But she hadn't ventured out of the house in the six weeks she'd been there. Even her bedroom window had remained tightly sealed, the blinds drawn. He could smell her before—in that vague way he had been able to smell her when he'd been to her apartment. It was mouthwatering, but it wasn't the same as having her there in front of him.

He had done all he could to protect this girl, and now he was going to be her murderer? No.

The monster within snarled, adding rage to the unfathomable thirst. He stood, unable to contain the impulse to writhe as he warred with himself.

 _Kill. Drink_ , a voice demanded.

 _Protect_ , screamed another. Protect her from the monster.

The monster was him. He needed to protect her from himself.

The monster was him.

Shame and fury hit him at the same time. Shame, because he could perfectly remember the last time he had seen the monster. He remembered kneeling in pools of blood, surrounded by dead bodies. He'd called Carlisle then, had taken out his cell phone and dialed with fingers still dripping blood.

" _I can't stop. I need help_ ," he'd whispered, broken.

And that was what made him furious. Who was this girl that she could walk into this shop, _his_ shop, and bring out that monster again? He hated her. With everything in him, he _loathed_ her for doing this to him. Stupid little girl.

Only seconds had passed. The girl—Bella—took a few shuffling steps forward and looked up. Straight at him. She froze. She stared. He glared.

She turned and was out of the shop as suddenly as she'd come in.

 _ **~Bella~**_

As the weeks went by and Bella's room remained free of demons, she knew she had to venture outside of the 1200 square feet of her father's house.

She'd thought the bookstore was a safe choice. Nowhere in Forks could be considered crowded, but a bookstore—not even a mega-store like Barnes and Nobles, but a small, independent shop—would likely have fewer people in it than any other building in Forks except the real estate office. There was that, and the fact Bella was in need of a few books she hadn't been able to find in Kindle format. Oh, she could have ordered the books from Amazon, but her father had already "accidentally" opened a few packages she'd ordered.

Bella got the distinct feeling Charlie was watching for signs of suicide. He was observant and intuitive; it was part of what made him a good cop.

Suicide was easy enough, but Bella didn't want him stumbling on her current obsession. A bookstore would kill two birds with one stone.

The first trip out had been a disaster. The paranoia had been too much, and she'd run from the shop almost as soon as she'd stepped foot inside. That was frustrating but not a shock. She'd been prepared to fail. It was enough to give her father hope that she was trying, and that kept him off her back.

Five days later, she tried again.

She was still paranoid. She kept her head down, her hood up, but she glanced around constantly. She registered someone at the checkout—a customer and a clerk. No one else in sight. She hurried to the back of the shop.

Once she had her hands on the books, some of the crippling anxiety ebbed. Some. Even as her mind settled down long enough to concentrate on what aisle was which, she kept glancing around.

The clerk was still at the register, his back to her. The rest of the shop was still empty and quiet.

She browsed and glanced. The bell above the door jangled. Her heart sped.

"Hey, Edward," called a friendly, female voice.

Bella's hand tightened around the pepper spray in her jacket pocket. Little good it would do her if the demon was around.

The other woman wasn't a demon, though, she reminded herself.

 _How would you know?_

Bella pushed away the niggling voice, took several shallow breaths, and continued to browse with a new sense of urgency. She needed out of there.

It was then she spotted the exact book she was looking for. She hadn't had much hope—this being a small shop—and had thought she was lucky when she stumbled on two other titles that might have been helpful. But there was the book she'd seen on Amazon and mentioned on some of the websites she'd been visiting.

Good. That meant her shopping trip was over. She headed for the front of the store.

Distracted, Bella didn't realize the odd clerk who had stared at her with such a vicious look that first time she came to the bookstore was the same one working the register today. When she was forced to look up to pay, she gasped at the sight of him and took an automatic step back.

They stared at each other. Today he looked...pained. His features were pinched, and that confused her. He swallowed hard, pushed his thick glasses up his perfectly straight nose, and smiled at her as he reached out for her small stack of books. "A little themed reading, huh?" he asked.

She continued to stare at him, uncertain. He sounded perfectly pleasant. In fact, his voice was nice. Melodic somehow.

 _Not everyone's out to get you, freak_ , her inner voice sneered at her. He was just a guy having a bad day last time. She cleared her throat and willed her speeding heart to slow down. "Got an itch, I guess," she said, ducking her head. She really wanted to be out of there. Her skin was beginning to crawl.

He reached his hand out, and it took Bella a few seconds to realize she was clutching the last book to her chest. She put it in his hand.

" _The Secret History of Vampires_ ," he said, and then flashed another grin, this one wider. "I suppose it'd have to be secret, considering we think they're fictional, huh?"

Bella stared down at the floor, her lips turned up in a wry smile. "Yeah. I guess." Bitter bile began to churn in her stomach. If only this guy knew what she did about the existence of vampires. Fictional. Right.

She remembered the feel of the demon's teeth sinking into her flesh; his arms as solid as steel holding her tightly against him. She could still feel his rock hard body against her and she shivered at the memory of his ice cold skin. Oh, she could tell this man a story or two about vampires.

Except she couldn't.

"Can I have my books?" she asked, her voice shaking. Her heart had begun to pound and a sickening chill made her skin clammy. "I need to go."

"Of course. I'm sorry." He handed her a bag with her books and she threw two twenties on the counter. "Your change!" he called, but she was already out the door.

She got in her car before the trembling got too bad that she couldn't walk. She had enough presence of mind to slam the car locks one, twice, three times—just in case—before she collapsed over the steering wheel. She held onto it for dear life as she hyperventilated.

 _Let it happen._

Panic attacks weren't new to her, and she knew how to manage them. It didn't do any good to fight them or to try to deny the rising terror inside her. The attack would end. As much as it felt like it wouldn't; she knew it would. She relaxed as much as she could and concentrated on getting her breathing under control.

As she knew it would, after an age, the panic ebbed. Bella rested her head on the steering wheel, wiping at the remnants of her tears.

Bad news: she was a basketcase, and maybe this time, that was going to be part of her forever.

Good news: she'd gotten the books she wanted. That, and, besides her parents, her conversation with the clerk was the most human interaction she'd had in seven weeks. Charlie would be thrilled.

 _ **~Jasper~**_

The girl, Bella, had ties in Forks. Well, that was inconvenient. One challenge after another, this little human.

Strange tiny town. What were the odds he'd found two humans in a row with ties to that town—no bigger than a village of old. A tiny town with a coven of strange, non-nomadic vampires protecting it.

They were soft, those vampires. Their arms, throats, and faces were unmarred. If they had fighting experience, it wasn't much. But there were five of them. That, and the young one. There was something about the young one.

Edward. That was his name. Pretty, arrogant thing. He'd spiked Jasper's interest since he appeared in the tree as good as next to him. Jasper still hadn't figured out how he'd done it.

Then, the way he'd looked toward the end. The hate and disgust that rolled off him when he looked at Jasper….

Come to think, it reminded him much of the way Bella had felt when she looked at him. A matched pair, they were. And both of them in Forks. Jasper didn't know what it meant. They intrigued him, the both of them, in very different ways. The boy was gifted—he was sure of that—and Bella would be.

Jasper considered these things, turning over possibilities, as he reverted the lone mansion in the woods back to its original state. He reversed the locks again, so they kept invaders out—human invaders anyway—instead of in. He restored the basement to its state of clutter and pulled up the stake and chains that had held his petite prisoner. Time would return the dust.

When he was done, he set off through the woods with a grin on his face. He was, by all standards, ancient. The things he had seen and done would defy human comprehension. Some might have said he'd done it all; seen it all.

So it would seem that life was nothing if not unpredictable, even for a being as limitless as him. Well, he'd always enjoyed a challenge.

* * *

 **A/N: SO! They met!**

 **Now what?!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: RAWR. It's Monday. Kris is GRUMPY. And sleepy. Harumph.**

* * *

Edward stared at the book left on his desk. It was from Carlisle—that much he knew. Edward had read the book himself many times and had seen it nearly every day. It always sat in a prominent place in Carlisle's study. No matter what else Carlisle happened to be interested in, the book was alway there.

It was an old book—written in the 1800's. Really, it was a collection of stories dating back as far as recorded history.

A compilation of vampire legends. More specifically, it was an accurate compilation. Oh, most of the suppositions were wrong. Like any myth, the stories were an explanation for the things humans couldn't understand, but Carlisle could name almost all the vampires who had spurred these stories. They'd lived; some of them were still living—himself included.

Stregoni Benefici.

Tucking the book under his arm, Edward headed downstairs. Carlisle would be home in another two hours. It was more than enough time to do a patrol. He took off running in his usual loop.

At Bella's house, he stopped. He listened. She was awake—she didn't sleep as often now—and reading. He could hear the rustle of the pages.

Did she still read like a girl, on her belly on her bed with her legs swinging in the air? He had no idea why the thought occurred to him. Maybe it was that he ached for her to have some semblance of innocence and lightness in her life, even if it was only the facade of a young woman losing herself in an interesting book.

It was a silly thing to think. There was nothing light about Bella's life that he could figure.

The longer it took for her story to come out, the more the townspeople were turning on her. Not in an angry mob kind of way. They'd all imagined any number of untold horrors about what must have been happening to the girl. For her to turn up in one piece—not even a visible bruise—was too anticlimactic for their tastes.

Behind her back, they were beginning to make up their own stories about what had happened to her. She'd run off with a boyfriend, gotten into drugs, or simply skipped town on a joyride.

No, there was no lightness or levity in Bella's life. She didn't have the friends who could give her that. She was up in her bedroom now not absorbed in her books out of pleasure. He could guess the reason she was researching vampires. Trying to find fact among the fiction. How much had the demon told her, Edward wondered.

Even if he intended to leave her in peace—and no part of Edward believed he did—was it possible now that she knew monsters existed? He stared down at the book in his hands.

He stayed only another minute before he left again. The demon hadn't been here. When he had finished his typical rounds, he was certain the beast hadn't been anywhere near Forks.

As satisfied as he could be without ripping Jasper apart, Edward returned home. Carlisle's car was in the drive, and he could hear the voices and thoughts of the rest of the family as well. He breezed into the house and into Carlisle's study where he waited.

"Why?" Edward asked without preamble. He set the book on the desk between them as though Carlisle needed clarification.

HIs father looked up at him. "For the girl."

For form's sake, Edward sat in the chair across from him. "I know it's for the girl, but the question remains. Why?"

Carlisle sat back, his hands steepled and his eyes as troubled as his thoughts. "She's as much a prisoner now as she was with him. She must feel so alone with what she knows. I can't imagine what that kind of silence does to a person."

Edward raised an eyebrow. "Can't you?" Carlisle had spent a solid century alone, sequestering himself away from humans and vampires alike.

Carlisle looked at him and offered a small smile. "Ah, I do know something of that kind of loneliness. But our vampire minds are as permanent and unchanging as our bodies, Edward. I knew only the stubbornness my father cursed me for. Stubbornness to survive, first of all. Then to destroy myself when I realized what I was." He waved his hand in the air. Edward knew the rest of the story well enough.

"But human minds are different," Carlisle said. "A human mind can be changed. It can be broken, can be destroyed. That was _his_ aim, wasn't it?"

"And yet you didn't care about that before."

Carlisle flinched and looked at Edward. He simply held Edward's gaze.

Edward's shoulders slumped. He looked down.

Of course Carlisle cared. He always cared. Like he'd cared about every human being when he learned what he was, and more importantly, what his kind did to humans. He'd cared enough to want to destroy himself. He'd cared enough to torture himself every day, inhaling blood he would never touch, getting it all over his hands, his clothes. He did all he could to help humans.

But he wasn't human. His species were the monsters. Vampires. They were who he associated with. He had come to know so many of them—their histories, their camaraderie, their friendship. The de facto leaders of the vampire world, the Volturi, were his direct benefactors.

It was a conundrum Edward knew, for a fact, was never far from Carlisle's thoughts. He loathed violence, death, and cruelty. Yet, he couldn't fault his fellows for being what they were, what he was. His moral code was not law, and who was he to judge others when none of them had chosen to be created this way? If they were not better than humans, why were humans their only true source of sustenance and strength? Yes, Carlisle had found animal blood to be a viable alternative, but how could he expect anyone else to take the same route he had when only human blood satisfied; when every instinct a vampire had was centered around that single craving?

Vampires had no need for shelter or healthcare or anything else. The one and only thing on every vampire's mind was human blood. Carlisle had believed in God before he was changed. Faced with the reality that vampires existed, what choice did he have but to believe God had created them exactly as He'd intended?

"It was never that I didn't care about the girl," Carlisle said, his tone even. "I didn't stop you from looking."

"Do you think you could have?" Edward asked, his tone bordering on mocking in spite of himself.

Carlisle's lip twitched. "No. But if I could, I wouldn't have. This is your life, Edward, and I can't decide how to live it for you. I do what I can with the cards I've been dealt.

"Yes, I had the same card you did—the knowledge of what this monster does to his victims. But that's one card, my son. I also had my beautiful family, and my fervent desire for all of you to remain in one piece. Because of our strange lifestyle, not a one of us has been in a single fight with another vampire." Carlisle spread his hands wide. "Then, of course, was the practical—the cards I didn't have. I had no way of knowing where he was, where he had Bella. Stumbling in on another vampire's hunt is what gets many of our kind killed, Edward. You have your gift, but it's untried against a seasoned warrior."

He sighed, and it was such a human sound, Edward looked up at him again. Carlisle's eyes were sad and tender. "And then my final card. You. You already sent yourself on one crusade to right the wrongs of the world. I saw what that did to you. I didn't see what good this obsession could possibly bring."

Carlisle stood and went to him. He put a hand on his shoulder. "But there are new cards now. Bella is back with the humans, and she has a secret that separates her from all the rest of them. Now, I can help. And it's not, you'll note, because it's easy to act now. This isn't an easy choice by a long shot. Not when her blood calls to you."

Edward frowned. "I won't hurt her." He said it to himself more than Carlisle. He'd been repeating that same mantra over and over again since she'd run out of the bookstore that first time.

"I believe you."

 _ **~Bella~**_

It wasn't over. No part of Bella believed her ordeal with the demon was over. And as long as she didn't know what would happen next, there was no rest for her.

She couldn't sleep—wouldn't even try—unless she was so exhausted she'd fall straight into oblivion. The what-ifs that plagued her as she tried to get her mind to settle down enough to sleep instead sent her into a frenzy.

What if this was just part of his plan? To let her go, to let her see her parents again, sleep in her own bed, in a room that wasn't locked from the outside? Had he known she would never be able to stop looking for him in the shadows?

He'd wanted to break her mind. He was succeeding admirably even though, as far as she knew, he was nowhere near her. She lived her life on the edge of panic with very little respite in between.

For the millionth time, Bella tried to sit across from her father at his little kitchen table and interact like a normal human being. Ever hopeful that her appetite had returned, he'd made her a full breakfast for dinner of scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. The smell of it made her nauseous, but she tried to nibble at some. She tried to talk a little. Small talk. Nothing important. The weather. The book she was reading—she always made up something. The weird things he'd had to do as a small town chief of police.

She must have spaced out again, because when he set his coffee cup down with a little bit of extra force, she jumped a mile at the resulting thunk. Her heart jumped into her throat, and a cold sweat sent chills down her neck.

Her father looked pained as she tried to calm herself down. "I'm sorry," she said in a tiny voice. "What did you say?"

"I ran into Dr. Cullen's son today," Charlie said, thankfully deciding that he wasn't going to push her about her mental instability this time. "He said you two know each other?"

Bella furrowed her brow. "I don't know anyone here." The last word came out choked as her mind reeled off a list of potentials. Why would anyone say they knew each other unless…

Unless it was him.

But Charlie knew everyone in this town, didn't he? He'd mentioned Dr. Cullen before. He was the doctor Charlie kept trying to get her to go see. He was gentle and kind, apparently.

"He works in the bookstore," Charlie said, scanning her worriedly.

"Oh." Okay. That made a little more sense. A very little. She'd been to the bookstore. She'd had a two second conversation with the clerk. The one her paranoid mind had convinced her wanted to kill her the first time she stepped foot in the store, because she was apparently going to spend the rest of her life wondering how many normal people all around her wanted to hurt her.

In a town like Forks, though, a disjointed conversation while he rung her up counted as them knowing each other. "I don't even know his name."

"Edward," Charlie said. "He's Carlisle's adopted son, actually. They're only something like twelve years apart in age." Charlie waved a hand. "Anyway. He gave me something to give to you. A book. Hold on. I'll go get it."

As he retreated to the living room, Bella's mind raced. Why would this stranger give her anything?

"He said he thought you might be interested," Charlie said as he returned to the kitchen. He set an overly large, rectangular package wrapped in brown paper—who actually did that?—next to her on the table. "He said you seemed interested in the subject when you last talked."

Bella stared at the package as though it would explode. She was afraid—was this some kind of trick somehow?—but she was also intrigued. The book couldn't be about vampires, could it? Maybe it was some ridiculous vampire love story, the kind that were popular in fiction, and he was trying to flirt with her. She grimaced at the idea, but then realized the book was way too big for that. It was tome-sized.

Her father was watching her expectantly, obviously as eager to figure out what was in the package as she was. There was no way she was going to open a vampire-related book in front of him though. She cleared her throat, took a healthy bite of eggs and forced herself to swallow. She could give him that much. "Thanks, Dad. So, you were talking about how Mrs. Stanley at the bank calls you every other week to report suspicious behavior?"

 _ **~0~**_

It took two days for Bella to talk herself into going to the bookstore. Here was the thing, she reasoned with herself. She was just as safe in the bookstore as she was in her house. The asshole had gotten in a locked, third-story apartment without a problem. If he wanted her, Charlie's little house wasn't going to keep him away.

She couldn't live with that knowledge. That was the whole point of what she was trying to do with all the vampire books.

After Port Angeles, Bella knew what had happened to her could happen again. Any one of those men could have overpowered her on their own.

As she tried to come to terms with what had happened to her, tried to recover, she'd felt helpless. The world was filled with strangers who could have her broken and bloodied on the ground in a heartbeat, and she couldn't stop them.

Except she could.

Charlie had been the one to talk to her about self-defense and martial arts. Her size didn't matter, he'd told her. It was about knowing how to fight and how the human body—any human body—worked.

Here she was, helpless all over again. She couldn't defeat a vampire physically; she was sure of that. But was there something she simply didn't know that could help? Was there any possibility she could learn to protect herself from a being that was Hulk-strong, Superman-fast, and immortal?

Bella needed knowledge. She needed to know what popular fiction had gotten right and if anything actually worked against a vampire. A stake? Garlic? The sun?

The prick had said the only thing that could kill a vampire was another vampire. He'd had every reason to lie, of course, even though he'd claimed he'd never lied to her.

So Bella got in her car and drove to the bookstore again. She peeked through the windows before she parked, trying to catch a glimpse of the clerk. Edward Cullen, her father had said.

"Not much ambition, I guess," Charlie had said when Bella carefully pressed him for information. "The Cullens got here three years ago, and in that time, his mother, uncle, and aunt have started a successful business from scratch. Edward has a degree, but he's not doing anything with it. He just stays at the bookstore."

It was more than what she was capable of at the moment, but that didn't matter. The point was that Charlie vouched for Edward's character. He wasn't going to murder her or, well, otherwise.

The shop was, thankfully, empty when she came in. Edward had his back to her. It had to be her imagination, but she thought she saw his shoulders tense as she took three uncertain steps in the door.

When he turned, though, his smile—while a little strained—was friendly. "Oh. Hello, Bella." He pushed his glasses up his nose and nodded to the book she carried clutched to her chest. "I see you got what I sent you."

"Yeah." Bella had to clear her throat as the word came out garbled and shaky. "I was, uh, wondering if I could talk to you about it." She looked anywhere but his eyes. Direct eye contact was too intimidating for her just yet. With Charlie, she'd gotten practiced at looking at a spot directly above or below his eyes, but not in them.

Edward nodded. "Sure. I have some time now."

Bella looked around the shop. "Are you sure? I don't want to get you in trouble."

"Ah, I'm the only one here right now." His lips quirked up at one corner. "Don't worry. I won't tell anyone if you won't."

Bella had no idea what the hell her face was doing at that moment. Her thoughts, as usual, were all over the place. Was this guy flirting after all? There was something pleasant about the tone of his voice, something that might have made her want to smile if she wasn't ten kinds of fucked up and suspicious.

He was only human, she reminded herself as she followed him to a space off to the side of the shop—a reading nook of sorts. She could kick his ass if worse came to worse. Besides, the little reading nook was near the store's huge, glass front window.

Bella set the book on the coffee table at the center of the space and chose the ginormous chair that gave her a view of the rest of the shop. There was only a wall behind her—no possibility of anyone sneaking up on her. She cleared her throat. "This book is so old, it has to be valuable. Why would you lend me something like this?"

"It's probably presumptuous of me," Edward said, his tone apologetic. "It's a bad habit. Not a lot of people come into a tiny bookstore in the age of Amazon and e-books. The people who do are either browsers with an honest love for books—any books. Or they're here with a purpose. I like that part of my job—helping people get more involved in whatever they're researching."

Now, Bella did smile—a wry sort of smile without any humor. "You want to help me to get more involved with vampires?" If only he knew what he was saying.

"It's a fascinating subject." There was no derision in Edward's voice. "And, as it happens, I have a personal book is my father's. He collects vampire myths. It's a hobby of his."

Bella looked up at that. "His hobby is vampires?"

"Vampire _myths_ ," Edward repeated. "He thinks it's fascinating that similar myths appear across most cultures. It's too big of a coincidence for so many cultures to have originated monsters that similar."

Bella blinked. These days, her brain processed information more slowly that she liked. "Are you saying your dad believes in vampires?" she asked.

"Myths are stories people make up to explain something they don't understand. Dad believes something is responsible for those stories." He shrugged—an indulgent smile on his face. "Call it vampires. Call it whatever you want. There's some explanation that explains everything even if we don't know what it is yet."

Bella's eyes pricked with tears, and she gasped at the sudden well of emotion in her. Too overwhelmed to care about what it looked like, Bella pulled her legs up onto the chair and hugged them close to her chest, rocking the slightest bit.

She'd been so desperately alone since the demon had snatched her from her bed. She'd been alone in the dark in more ways than one. She reached out to touch the book, running shaking fingers over the old, leather binding. There was no way Edward could ever know how much his simple validation meant.

If Dr. Cullen believed there was some truth to vampires, then she wasn't entirely alone. She wasn't the only person on the planet for whom vampires weren't the stuff of horror movies or improbable romance novels.

"Sorry," Bella said, pressing the heel of her trembling palm against her eye. "I just...Sorry." She knew she was acting like a freak.

"You don't have to apologize." Edward shifted in his seat across from her. "I can't imagine you've had an easy time of things lately."

Bella huffed. Of course. Stupid, tiny ass town. Everyone here knew she'd been missing. It was the lesser reason why she didn't want to leave the house. When she eventually went somewhere other than the bookstore, she knew from experience what to expect. The same as when she was seventeen: pitying stares, unsolicited affirmations and, her favorite, those people who thought she needed to be reminded how she brought this on herself.

 _What on Earth were you doing wandering around that part of town by yourself?_

Well, whatever. It gave her permission to act weird without having to explain herself. She remembered that from before too.

Wiping at her eyes, Bella stood. "I have to go." She took the book and clutched it to her chest again, as though it were armor. "I'll take care of the book. I promise."

* * *

 **A/N: As always, so many thanks to MoH, Packy, Eleanor, Mina, and Songster for putting up with me.**

 **So! That was a...calmer chapter. What do you think?**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Welp. Let's do this.**

* * *

She was in the pitch black again.

It took her mind a moment to accept it. At first, she wouldn't accept it, couldn't fathom it. How? How had she ended up back here? Had the demon found her? Stolen her away from her bed in her father's house and brought her back to the cold, black basement? How? How had he taken her without her knowing?

How was the less terrifying question—the safe one to concentrate on. If she had to think past how, she would start to think about what it was like to be alone in the dark. How the stillness turned minutes into hours and hours into months. Interminable time when she could feel her mind like strings pulled too taut and tight. She was too aware of her sanity, and how close she was to losing it. She was frozen to the bone and alone. More alone than she knew it was possible to be.

Alone in the dark.

Bella gasped and clawed at her throat. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't do this. Not again. She couldn't be there in the black, tethered to a circle with nothing in it. Nothing but cold floor and darkness.

She screamed. She screamed, and she couldn't stop.

That brought noise to the silence, the darkness. She skittered backward on the floor, staring. She could see only one thing in the black—the demon's glowing, crimson eyes.

Bella threw her arms over her head as he reached her. She struggled in his hold, screaming. "Don't hurt me. Don't hurt me again, please. Please. Don't leave me in the dark." She was half out of her mind with terror as she flailed with everything she had.

It was useless, she remembered. He was too fast. Too strong. All the fight left her. She slumped in his arms, gasping for breath and crying quietly as she waited for the inevitable pain. He was going to drain her again. It had been too long, and he had to be thirsty.

"You're safe now, baby. I have you. Bella, please. Come back to me."

That wasn't the monster's voice. It took her forever to figure that out. She searched for an explanation, because that didn't make sense. She was alone. Only her and the demon in the entire world.

"Bella?" Someone touched her hair, and she flinched backward violently. "Okay. Okay. I'm not going to touch you. Just open your eyes."

Bella considered that. Were her eyes closed? They were. In fact, they were screwed tightly shut. If she opened them, what would she see?

Slowly, she opened her eyes. Her lashes were sticky with tears. She cringed, fearful of the darkness.

It _was_ dark, but not the awful kind. She could see shapes. And she wasn't in the cold basement. The floor beneath her was made of wood. There was furniture in the room. Her feet were still tangled in the blankets she didn't have.

And her father was staring at her with wide, broken eyes. He had a flashlight illuminating his face.

She closed her eyes again, resting her cheek on the cool floor, exhausted. "Turn the light on," she whispered, her voice raspy from screaming. "Please."

"Power's out."

It happened in the winter sometimes. The power was out. She'd woken in the pitch black for the first time since she'd been home. The monster wasn't there.

But Charlie also didn't know how full of shit he was. She wasn't safe. She never had been, and never would be.

When she tried to get up, her movements were too feeble. She'd spent what little energy she had, and she was trembling badly. Charlie leaned toward her, reaching out with a tentative hand. "Can I help you?"

She nodded, reaching up to loop an arm around his neck. She helped him maneuver her into a sitting position against the bed. Charlie reached out for the bottle of water she had on the nightstand. He held it to her lips, and she drank, gratefully soothing her sore throat.

"You want to tell me what happened?" Charlie asked. His voice was calm, but Bella could read the underlying tension. She closed her eyes again, shivering with the chill that ran down her spine.

No part of her wanted to tell him what happened. Why would she want to drag anyone else into this hell? Not that he would believe her if she did tell the truth. No, he'd think the trauma had gotten the better of her this time, and she was making up vampire stories to cope with what had really happened to her.

Bella took a deep breath. She knew she had to tell him something. She'd been silent too long, and who knew what he'd made up in his mind. Better to tell him half truths so he could comfort himself with the idea she was talking.

"He…" She had to swallow hard because the mere word had conjured visions of the demon—his cocky, devilish grin. "He kept me in a basement for days with no lights. There was nothing in the room. Just a chain and me." She shuddered. "I hate the dark."

Charlie made some weird, strangled noise in the back of his throat. He didn't say anything. He just moved to grab the discarded comforter and wrapped it around her trembling shoulders.

"Bella…" Charlie started to say, but she shook her head.

"Please don't ask me to tell the police." She stared straight forward, not looking at him. "Trust me. There's nothing they can do."

"I know it feels that way, but—"

"It is that way," she said without raising her voice. "I would. You know I would."

Bella could feel her father's eyes on her, but she didn't look at him. She was too ashamed of her own powerlessness. What would he make of what little she gave him? Would he think her captor had brainwashed her into thinking the police couldn't help?

Part of her wondered if it was true. Had she made up a story about a supernatural creature to cover some deeper trauma? Worse, was this all a dream? She still couldn't figure out why he'd let her go; it made no sense.

Maybe he hadn't let her go. Maybe she was still chained in the basement with only her warped fantasies of her father's home to keep her company.

Shaking badly now, Bella pulled her legs up to her chest and hid her face. She brushed the bite mark on her neck with her fingertips. It was always a few degrees cooler than the rest of her skin. Real. Too real.

 **~Edward~**

He knew she was in the bookshop again. It was impossible not to know. Being in the same room with her—even though that room was fairly large—was torture. It was like putting a platter full of the most delectable food in front of a human who hadn't had any in days and expecting him not to eat it. Not even a bite. Edward dug his nails into the ground so hard, he dented the cement under the thin carpeting of the bookstore's floor.

Searching his mind for some semblance of rationality, Edward settled on curiosity.

What was she doing here again? The girl—woman—was puzzling; there was no doubt about that. He knew both from his patrols and from the minds of the people her father talked to that Bella didn't leave the house except to come here. He knew too that they had no more books on vampires unless she was about to try reading ridiculous fiction novels.

He listened to the sound of her footsteps as she walked around the store. She hurried off to the side quickly. Hiding, he thought. There were two other people in the store—two old ladies cackling to each other as they flipped through a risque novelty book.

She got closer, and, as she got to his aisle, Edward was sure to keep his face trained on his task. She stopped. "Hello."

He looked up at her, taking in the minute changes. If anything, her eyes were more sunken, her skin more sickly, though only just. Was it possible to get less rest? But rather than let his concern show, he smiled and stood up. "Hello, Bella."

She ducked her head, and the movement struck him as curious. Was she as shy as she seemed just then, or was it the trauma that made it so difficult to talk? She was obviously struggling—her sallow features flushed as she flexed her fingers at her sides.

"How's the reading coming along?" he asked, helping her out.

"Oh, I finished everything." She frowned. "I should have brought it back."

Edward waved a hand. "Don't worry about it. It'll be a long time before my dad needs it." He moved his hands along the shelves, reminding himself to move slowly. They were on uneasy ground, and he knew it.

Part of him was surprised Bella hadn't recognized him for what he was yet. They'd only spent minutes together, that was true. And she'd only looked him in the eyes that once.

Vampires had been human, after all. Without touching his hard, cold skin, would she be able to tell a vampire on sight? The eyes, perhaps, were a giveaway, but his eyes and the eyes of a normal vampire were vastly different.

Ah, well. It was a risk he would take regardless, so there was no point in worrying. He pushed the glasses up his nose—a human gesture. Emmett teased him because he was still self-conscious about what he was. The eyes were most noticeable, and so he did his best to hide them.

He thought all this as he waited for the girl to gather her courage. He could see she wanted to say something, but he understood how trauma worked. Words didn't always come easily. She was brave, because she was fighting. It hadn't been so long since her ordeal had ended.

Did she know how unlikely it was that her ordeal was over? If she had any inkling, that made what she was doing—trying to exist and interact—astounding.

Just as Bella opened her mouth, Jessica caught sight of her.

"Oh, my God. Bella Swan, is that you?"

Edward stood—probably too quickly—and barely stopped himself from grabbing Jessica. He cringed as the girl hugged Bella tightly. Couldn't she see the way Bella stiffened? Didn't she hear the tiny whine Bella made in the back of her throat?

"Do you remember me?" Jessica asked, oblivious. She let Bella go. "We were friends for a hot minute before…" It seemed to dawn on Jessica why she'd known Bella such a short time. Bella had only lived in Forks a short time before she was attacked and went to live with her mother far away from this tiny town where everyone knew everything about each other. "Well, uh…" Jessica stumbled. Edward could hear her reproachful thoughts at her blunder, and he warmed slightly to her.

When Bella ducked her head, as though she were the one who had anything to be ashamed of, Edward decided it was time to intervene. He cleared his throat. "Bella. I'm sorry to interrupt, but I was about to go on my lunch. I was wondering if you would join me at the coffee shop?" It was a tiny place, and the couple who ran it were known for their discretion. Bella probably knew that too. "To discuss the book."

Bella glanced up—a furtive look as her eyes darted between Jessica and Edward. He could hear her heartbeat speed at the idea of going anywhere with him. But the coffee shop was across the street, and apparently the book had enough appeal. "Okay."

Edward was stunned at the elation that went through him. Why did it give him such pleasure that this human girl had said yes to him? It was no mystery. Carlisle was right, after all. She had to be desperate to know she wasn't alone with what she'd seen; what she'd been through.

As they left the book shop, Edward could hear Jessica's gears grinding, and he grimaced. Well, he supposed it was inevitable. If not Jessica, someone would see them at the coffee shop, and the rumors would begin.

He was a Cullen—the oddest and quietest of the bunch. The son. Emmett posed as Carlisle's brother, so that was natural enough. Two childless couples inhabiting the biggest house in Forks. But Edward? He was old enough to have gone off to college, but he didn't. He didn't date any of the women in town, or the boys, for that matter. He kept a penny-ante job at a bookstore and minded his own business.

Then, there was Bella. They all felt like they knew her. The Chief of Police's daughter by his flighty ex-wife. They had always been fascinated by Charlie's story. The man who served law and order diligently, whose heart had been irrevocably broken when Renee absconded with their baby daughter. Finally, _finally,_ he'd gotten his daughter back after seventeen years, only to lose her so quickly and cruelly. For years, the townspeople always asked Charlie how she was doing, and they were gratified to her she hadn't let those awful men conquer her. She learned every martial art she could, graduated from high school, went on to college, and even had a job as a nanny.

Before this latest debacle, everyone, Edward included, knew Bella as, "that poor girl." Now that she was there in town, though, they weren't sure. One mishap they could count as bad luck and pour every sympathy at her. But to get in trouble a second time?

Well, she had to be doing something, didn't she?

Edward struggled not to grind his teeth. Any warmth he'd felt toward Jessica banished as he listened to the thoughts running through her head. He stepped closer to Bella, aching to put his arm around her. To shield her, he thought.

He felt so protective of her.

"Where would you like to sit?" he asked, thinking to give her the option of sitting out in the open or hiding themselves away.

"I don't…" she started to say, but apparently thought better of it. She nodded to a booth in the corner. "Is that okay?"

She could see the whole place if she sat on the right side of the booth, he noted. "Of course."

They had a short squabble about who was picking up the tab, but in the end, she allowed him to buy her a coffee. He could tell by her thready heartbeat that being in this new place was an ordeal for her. As soon as he went to the counter, she scooted to the very corner of the booth and put her back against the wall, drawing her legs up close on the bench seat.

"Nothing to eat? I thought it was your lunch time," Bella said when he returned with two coffees.

He couldn't help the small smirk that tugged at his lips. "I ate a big breakfast." This was marginally accurate. He'd been hunting almost on a daily basis ever since he discovered the potency of her scent. That morning had managed to snag a buck elk. "I'm not huge on lunch."

Instead, he'd had their cups of coffee poured in to go cups, which were conveniently shielded from view. That way, he could pretend to sip rather than have to throw up whatever he drank later. He cradled his hands around his coffee, hoping the hot liquid would warm his skin. In case he needed to touch her. For whatever reason.

He cleared his throat to rid himself of that odd thought. "So. The book. Did you—"

"Do you believe what your father believes?" she asked in a rush, staring not at him but down at her coffee.

"You mean, do I believe in vampires?" he asked.

Her cheeks flushed, and venom pooled in his mouth. He had to be careful, and remember not to breathe in.

"It sounds so stupid when you say it out loud," Bella murmured, mostly to herself.

He scoffed. "It doesn't sound stupid to me. I do believe there is some truth to those stories." He heard the stutter of her breath and saw her gnaw on her lip. "I do believe monsters exist."

She was quiet at that. She took slow, even breaths, as though his admission brought on some great emotion in her. Curious. He tried again to read her mind and was frustrated again by the silence.

It was then that he saw it. She rubbed at her neck and he caught a glimpse of an all too familiar scar. A bite.

Anger surged through him. So the demon had fed from her. He had wondered. She smelled so sweet. Worse for him than for the rest of his family, but sweeter than most regardless. Yet Jasper had fed from her and she lived. How many times?

And how was a human supposed to cope with that kind of atrocity? A thing no one else in her species had any context or word for?

"Bella." He considered his words a moment more before he let them go. "May I ask you something?"

Her features tightened, and a weary, resigned look came over her face. She nodded.

"This book… Is that what happened to you?"

Bella's head snapped up. Her eyes focused right on him, wide and horrified, but only for a split second before they flooded with tears. "I…I don't…" She pressed a trembling palm to her cheek.

"I'll believe you," he said, his voice soft and, he hoped, soothing. "No matter what you say right now, I promise I'll believe you."

She crumpled then. Her shoulders hunched inward and she brought both of her hands up to cover her face. "How could you?" she whispered. "How could you possibly believe me?"

Edward wished with everything in him that he could get up and take her into his arms. She needed very badly to be held, and he wanted to be the one to hold her. "If I accept that monsters exist, I must accept that someone, somewhere has seen them." He paused, watching her shoulders shake and aching for her. "It was a vampire who took you."

"Yes," she whispered, shuddering with the word.

"And that's why you can't tell anyone. Because, for most people, vampires don't exist."

She choked on a sob, her face still hidden by her hands. "Yes."

The owners of the coffee shop were watching now. Edward Cullen had made Bella Swan cry. They would come over soon to see if Bella needed rescuing. They were good people. What would they think if they knew exactly what kind of monster he was? That, even as he wanted to hold her and comfort her, that monstrous part of him still wanted to drink her dry?

In any event, he needed to say one more thing before they broke this up. "You're not alone. And when you're ready to talk, if you want to talk, I'll be here to listen."

* * *

 **A/N: Sooooo. My betas and prereaders seem to think it's going to be a bad day when Bella figures out what he is.**

 **What do you think?**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: AH. So… I think my mojo is coming back. Shhhh don't scare it. We'll see if it lets me complete this damn Marked Chapter…**

* * *

It was Esme who found him retching in the woods outside their home. She crouched beside him, and rubbed his back. Despite the unpleasant task, Edward smiled to himself. His human mother had done much the same for him a night or two when he'd overdone it at a bar. It was small comfort then—who wanted their mother to see them like that—but now?

Well, he supposed even monsters could long for a mother's touch. Or was it just his own lot? After all, Esme was the reason he was alive. Without her mother's heart, he'd have been dead nearly half a century. There were times he didn't thank her for that, but nevertheless, here he was.

Standing upright, Edward tilted his head in the direction of the forest. Not that what he had expelled smelled like vomit, but human food didn't smell good to vampires regardless.

"You've had lunch with Bella again," Esme said, not asking. Her tone was even, but he read the curiosity in her thoughts easily enough.

"I think she's working up the courage to talk to me about what happened to her. Mostly, she's quiet, or if she does talk, it's to ask questions about me." He huffed but smiled, remembering. "She likes hearing stories about our family, so I find myself editing carefully. She thinks Emmett sounds more like my big brother than my uncle."

At this, Esme scoffed. "The two of you can be rambunctious children. More destructive, though. And I've had human children. That's a feat."

Edward heard the pang in Esme's thoughts and saw the flicker of her human children, both long gone from her. He put a hand to her arm. She smiled and ruffled his hair. "I expect that admitting to you she was someone's victim left her vulnerable. That's a large piece of her soul she gave a near complete stranger. So she's collecting pieces of you, leveling the playing field before she gives you any more." Esme shook her head. "It's not easy admitting you can be victimized. The shame of it is incredible."

At that, Edward put an arm around his mother. "I don't imagine you need to be told this, but there's no shame. Not for either of you."

Esme smiled sadly. "Yes, well. The human psyche doesn't pay much mind to rationalities, does it?" She made an effort to dismiss the subject. "It's nice that she likes hearing about your family."

"I told her about my human family too," Edward said, leaping up from where he stood onto a rock outcropping.

"Did you?" Esme asked calmly, as though he couldn't hear the shock in her thoughts. He never talked about his human family.

"She was curious how I ended up with a couple not so much older than me as my adoptive parents. It's the most animated and engaged I've ever seen her. She was so concerned for me, my emotional well-being that is, that her body language became more open, and she looked right at me. At my eyes."

In fact, she'd looked in his eyes for a beat too long. Humans commented on occasion that the color of his eyes were pretty. He didn't see what connection could be made between his golden eyes and the blood red to black eyes her captor would have had, but he worried she would make the connection anyway.

Dismissing that—what could he do if she had made some kind of connection—he smiled. "Her concern for me is how I end up losing my lunch so often these days. She worries that I don't eat enough, which is really the pot calling the kettle black. So, I told her I would eat something if she would."

Esme was quick to stop her next thought in its tracks, but not quick enough that Edward didn't hear it. He turned his head sharply and narrowed his eyes at his mother. She made a face and chuckled. "You can't blame me for my observations, Edward. You're fond of the girl."

"I admire her. How could I not? I've been inside a traumatized mind. I know the chaos of it; the stark fear. I can see how afraid she is. The constant vigilance. She never relaxes. She knows. She knows how lethally fast and strong we are. She knows an attack could come at any time, and I'm almost glad I can't see into her mind. I'm almost glad that I don't have to hear what she must be thinking all the time."

Though, still, he was almost desperate to hear her mind, to know if he was helping or if there was something else he could say. He wanted to know how bad it truly was, so he could know how to help her.

Edward looked back out toward the forest. "But for all that, she still has room to focus on me, and to be concerned for my well-being. Yes, I find that incredible. I'm fond of her, but not like that. I don't know how you could even think it."

Rather than crouch, Esme sat on the rock with her legs dangling over it. "I don't see how it's such a bad thing."

Edward laughed without a trace of humor. "Oh, no? You think that's what she needs? Another monster with an unnatural attraction to her?"

Esme noted inwardly that he hadn't dismissed the possibility of attraction as false. Edward frowned, wondering at his own words. But before he could speak, she continued. "There's nothing unnatural about attraction. It's the most natural thing in the world."

"We aren't the same species, for heaven's sake."

"Oh, Edward." Esme sounded as exasperated with him as he was with her. "It's not like bestiality."

He stared at her wide-eyed. "Mother," he said, scandalized.

She looked amused. "It's not as though it's unprecedented. I knew I wanted Carlisle when I was human, and he was a vampire. There was a connection between us that very first day. Some things simply exist whether we think they should or not."

"I'm not—"

She waved a hand, cutting him off. "You've been more focused with this girl than you have with any human you couldn't save."

"Because we were directly responsible."

"It is not our responsibility to murder any being, but we've worn that discussion into the ground by now. Regardless of how it started, it is what it is now. This terrible thing has happened to her, and you're in a position to know it because Jasper wandered into our territory." She craned her head, looking up at him. "Is it so wrong to contemplate the idea something beautiful could come of it?"

"How could it possibly be beautiful?"

"What you're doing for her is beautiful. You're here. If we hadn't been here, that demon still would have done what he did. And when he released her, there would be no one. She needs to talk to someone, Edward, or she has no hope of recovery. As a result, you understand her in a way no human is likely to be capable of." Esme pursed her lips, debating a moment before she added, "And you smile when you talk about her. You smile in a way I've never seen you do before."

Edward frowned, seeing a replay of his face in her mind as he spoke about Bella. There was a wistful smile playing at the corner of his lips. He shook his head hard. "That doesn't matter. What good could ever come of it? I'm a monster."

Esme shrugged. "It was sixteen years before I ended up with the man of my dreams. Well, the vampire of my dreams. It's not a horrible thing to have hope that something that seems impossible will work out somehow. Beauty—even the idea of beauty—is worth having, even if it's fleeting."

"That's not what's going on in any event," Edward said, his tone final. It was ludicrous, and he didn't need Esme putting those thoughts in his head. Even if there was some level of attraction, he most certainly shouldn't be feeding it. Bella had been through enough. What he wished was that he could help her get to a place where she could forget that vampires existed at all. Having one crush on her like a school boy was the opposite of a beautiful thing.

"I think I hear a herd of elk," Esme said, cocking her head and giving him an out. "Shall we?"

Edward prepared to spring. "After you."

 _ **~Bella~**_

Bella didn't like her dad's best friend's son.

Whenever Charlie had his best friend Billy Black over, Bella hid in her room. This time, Charlie had obviously been trying to tempt her downstairs, telling her Jacob was home for spring break from college.

She had a vague memory of Jacob Black. He was two years younger than she was, and she remembered him clamoring after her and his two older sisters. He had been a sweet boy then, and though she wouldn't admit it to Rebecca and Rachel Black, she'd liked the way he clung trustingly to her hand. They'd had a decent conversation when Bella was seventeen and newly arrived in Forks, but hadn't really had the chance to get to know each other then. He'd seemed like a sweet kid, though.

He wasn't so sweet anymore. To appease her father, she'd decided she would at least greet their guests. When she offered him a little wave from the safety of the stairwell, his lip had curled in what looked like disgust.

Throughout lunch, he kept looking around as though he was trying to find the source of some foul stench. Bella sniffed the air. She smelled fish, but that was obvious. That was lunch, and both their dads were fishermen.

Bella made excuses not to be at the table with Jacob. She took overly long in the bathroom, and when she went back downstairs, she busied herself clearing up plates. Charlie and Billy headed for the living room at the game. Jacob stayed at the table staring at her.

Despite how many times Bella told herself the kid was harmless—he wasn't going to attack her in her kitchen with her dad in the other room—she started to tremble. Trying to move as nonchalantly as possible, she slipped the largest, sharpest knife out of the block and set it within easy reach. As she washed the dishes, she touched in now and again.

"You've been hanging out with one of the Cullens."

Bella jumped when Jacob finally spoke. Her heart was pounding out of control. She swallowed and, keeping one hand on the counter and on the knife, turned around.

He'd moved closer. Not close enough to grab, but it wouldn't exactly be difficult. Bella assessed him. Jacob was monstrous, and that made her nervous. He was well-muscled, and his eyes were sharp. He'd gotten up from the table and moved closer to her without her hearing. Still, she could take him. Self-defense wasn't a matter of size or muscles after all, and he wasn't a vampire. He was human.

Human she could deal with.

Belatedly, his question sunk into her head. "What?" she asked, disconcerted.

"Edward Cullen," he said.

Bella furrowed her brow. "How do you know that?"

For the first time, the twisted look left his face. He ran a hand through his hair, looking sheepish and much more like the little boy she remembered. "Uh. Gossip."

Stupid, fucking, tiny ass town. Bella took a shaky breath. She didn't like to think about what kind of gossip she generated. She really hoped Edward wasn't getting any flack for being her friend. She reached for a dishtowel. What she wanted more than anything right then was to already be upstairs, away from this guy. "What business is it of yours, anyway?"

"Guess it's not. Just...he's not a good friend."

Bella's blood ran cold. "Why?"

"He's got a reputation."

Bella scoffed, wringing her hands on the dishtowel. Her pulse was getting too thready. "You mean from when he was a troubled kid? I know all that. He didn't even live here then."

"Not that. He's just...not a good friend for you."

Those words both irritated and terrified her. "So you know him?" she asked, her voice more tremulous than she would have liked. "You've met him?"

Listening to warnings from other people, at least keeping them in mind, was something she'd been taught in her self-defense classes. However, this guy wasn't her friend. He didn't know her. It could be _Jacob_ being the creepy, weirdly possessive asshole.

"I haven't met him, but—"

"Then maybe you shouldn't go around parroting other people's opinion when you don't know anything about him." Bella threw down the dish towel and darted upstairs. She reached her room just in time. Her legs gave out, and she sunk against the door, shaking hard.

Her breath came in gasps, and she struggled to keep a handle on her tears. It didn't work. She cried quietly into her hands.

Until that moment, she hadn't realized how much Edward meant to her. For the last month, lunches with him were the only thing she looked forward to. She liked hearing about his family. It was obvious how much he cared for them. She'd started to think it would be nice to have an actual conversation with him. A normal conversation where she could discuss something, like the books he liked to read—non-vampire books—and she could string more than a few sentences together.

Bella hated Jacob Black for planting a seed of doubt in her head. She wasn't so afraid when she was with Edward. Or at least, she wasn't _only_ afraid. Yet even if Jacob was only parroting what he'd heard from someone else, it meant that someone in this town—or maybe on the reservation—knew something less than flattering about him.

 _ **~Edward~**_

Edward didn't have to read Carlisle's thoughts to know what the next words out of his mouth would be.

"Sam has requested a meeting at the treaty line." The whole family was gathered, waiting for Edward's return.

He nodded. "I figured. I caught Jacob Black's scent when I patrolled Bella's house."

Rosalie seemed nervous and irritated. "If they want to start trouble over this, I say we let them take care of Bella. They know vampires exist, after all. They can do what you're doing, Edward."

"No," he said bluntly. He didn't like the idea of more monsters being around Bella, especially ones with limited control.

Of the Quileute Tribe, four of their number were shapeshifters—wolves. Jacob Black was the most obvious as he was directly descended from the chiefs of old. Sam Uley, though, was the leader, having shifted first and being oldest. He was also their leader because Jacob had opted to go to college the year after he'd first shifted, but he was home for the moment, it seemed.

"I see no reason this can't be worked out," Carlisle said. "Let's see where they are with this."

They set out.

At the treaty line, the shapes of four enormous wolves were plainly visible. Edward struggled not to roll his eyes. Of course. Even after three years of close proximity, they didn't trust the Cullens enough to stay in human form. Edward had always found it laughable considering it meant that they had to rely on him to translate.

Each on their side of the treating line, both parties nodded in greeting. Sam stepped forward.

"They want to know why my scent is around Bella's house," Edward said, unsurprised.

Carlisle looked at him, and Edward nodded, giving him the okay to tell the whole story. He could hear Sam's thoughts—wondering at their dynamic not for the first time. He didn't understand why Edward, the youngest of them in every way, was second in command of the Cullen clan.

Pack mentality, but not untrue. And the answer should have been obvious. Edward's gifts gave him natural insight, and in that way, he was more military-minded. Emmett was happy to follow their lead. Rosalie knew damn well she was too brash in these kinds of conversations and Esme? Well, she was the gentlest of all of them. Though woe to the first being that threatened her family. Edward suspected she could be the most lethal if she were ever pushed.

Carlisle began, "The person who kidnapped Bella Swan was a vampire."

Instantly, the wolves shifted, bearing their teeth and tensing their muscles. Edward could hear their surprise. They hadn't even considered that possibility.

Carlisle raised his hands in a placating motion. "Not a friend of ours, needless to say. That's why my son has been keeping a close eye on her home."

Sam raised his head, and Edward balked. "He says a week or so ago, they caught the scent of another vampire. He only skirted the treaty line, so they assumed we'd warned him away." Edward looked to Sam. "Will you take me there? To where his scent is, so I can see if it was the same one?"

Sam looked to Jacob, and then the others—Paul and Jared.

"They'll let you cross on one condition—that you go alone," Edward said to Carlisle.

"No," Rosalie and Esme said. Emmett scoffed.

Edward shook his head. "It's fine." He looked each of the wolves in the eyes. "Carlisle has nothing to fear from any of them. We have the same purpose—to protect Bella Swan."

He could hear their displeasure and disbelief at the idea. Already, they were making up stories in their heads. It didn't make sense to them that a vampire would want to protect anyone, but they figured it was a territorial thing. Still, they too wanted to know, and they grudgingly trusted Carlisle. The man was around human blood constantly, after all.

An hour later Carlisle was home with a definitive answer to the question that had plagued Edward since Bella's unlikely return.

"It is his scent. He's been skulking nearby."

The demon had returned for his prize. Edward flexed his hands into fists at his sides. His mouth pooled with venom. Not thirst, but hunger. Hunger for a fight.

He was going to rip the demon apart with his bare hands.

* * *

 **A/N: So!**

 **Hi.**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Shorty chapter, but necessary. Hope you're having a good weekend.**

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The second Bella laid eyes on Edward, all the doubt Jacob Black had put in her head faded away. He raised his head as she walked in the door of the book shop, and when he smiled at her, she felt nothing but a pleasant warmth.

Strange. When had that started happening?

But Bella had more important things on her mind. She trusted Edward, she realized. She trusted him, despite the fearful voice in her head that told her she couldn't really trust anyone. Her comfort with Edward wasn't a product of her rational mind. It just was. She hadn't chosen it anymore than she chose to be a jittery mess, jumping at the rustle of leaves in the trees half the time.

"Bella." He reached out, but pulled back just as quickly, bringing his hand up to his mouth. He coughed to cover the gaff. "I'm glad to see you."

Bella shoved her hands deep in her pockets, staring down at her toes. She was surprised by the sudden desire to be touched. By Edward in particular. "Are you?" she asked the floor.

"What?"

"Glad to see me."

"Of course."

Bella peered up at him from under her eyelashes. He had intense eyes. She'd never noticed. She looked away quickly. "Have a break soon?"

"He's not even supposed to be here today," Jessica said, appearing out of nowhere. Bella jumped and tightened her arms around herself. "I think he was hoping you'd show up." Her voice suggested she wanted them to fill in the blanks.

Annoyance went through Bella, but her throat was too tight to manage some retort. Some part of her wanted so much to believe Jessica was right; Edward had come in only because there was a change Bella might drop by. Bitterness—that old ,familiar emotion—tainted the strange sensation of hope.

Hope of what, she wondered? She'd never had the chance to develop that kind of hope. Whatever Jessica was imagining was something Bella had never been allowed to have, not after what had happened to her before she had a chance for even foolish, teenage love. Her eyes burned, and she turned her head to stare out the window.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Jessica," Edward said, his tone cold. Then, much warmer, "Bella? Do you want to take a walk?"

What she wanted was away from Jessica, so Bella nodded. Arms wrapped tightly around herself, she followed him outside. The cold air helped, but it also gave her enough headspace to notice the darkness of the forest they were skirting. She cringed, her eyes scanning the trees. "Where are we going?"

"Where do you want to go?"

She paused and chafed her arms. "Home," she said. "My home."

"Oh." Edward sounded...disappointed? "I can walk you back to your car."

"No. I mean…" Bella swallowed hard and balled her hands into fists. She hated that she was trembling again. "I want you to come with me."

Her request was met by silence, and it took Bella a few awkward seconds to figure out how that must have sounded. "To talk," she said, her cheeks flushed. She could feel his eyes on her like a physical entity. "I need to tell you something."

She needed to tell someone. It was too much to carry alone any further.

"My house is private," she said. Because her moods and reactions were unpredictable even to herself. "But if you're uncomfortable—"

"I'm not." His voice was strong and clear. "I want to listen."

 _ **~Edward~**_

In Bella's father's small house, in his relatively cheery living room, Edward listened to her tale. As she spoke, she stared straight ahead. Though her voice shook at times, she remained impressively calm.

Edward, on the other hand, was not so calm.

She told a horrendous tale of torture. Not the kind that broke her body, but the kind designed to break her mind. Of course, Edward was not altogether surprised. He had seen glimpses of the things she spoke of in Jasper's mind.

He'd kept her in pitch blackness, she said. Chained to a circle on the floor like a dog on a leash. It had just been her, the chain, the cold floor to sleep on, and pitch black for company.

Then, when he had turned on the light, she was weak and disoriented. She'd played his game of questions and figured out what he was. Edward was as impressed then as she said Jasper had been. The human mind did all manner of gymnastics when it did or didn't want to believe something. For her to have that much composure to reach the conclusion that was both most rational and most irrational was nothing short of astounding.

She went on, describing how he spoke of rewarding her for her cleverness with good food. But really, not even that was against what he wanted. He needed her healthy and strong because he intended to drink from her more than once.

That was when Edward had the most trouble keeping his emotions at bay. Rage, for a vampire was an intense thing. The bastard had made her come to him. To trade her blood for a warm blanket as though she had a choice. He hated the image she put in his head—Bella on his lap, in the lock of his embrace, her head tilted as his teeth sunk into her flesh.

Edward remembered the agony of the bite. He'd awaken from deep unconsciousness to the terrible burn, but Carlisle hadn't drained him. What must that have been like? To feel your life draining away while you were helpless even to move.

Inwardly, he writhed as her tale only grew worse. She spoke of the debilitating weakness brought on by blood loss, and how she had to depend on him for everything.

When she got to their struggle in the shower, Edward had to clench his jaw to keep from howling in fury. The indignities she'd suffered.

And then, she'd again proven herself braver than he could have imagined. She ranted at the demon; told him off for the monster he was.

He'd let her go. As simple and completely nonsensical as that. He'd let her go. Edward still couldn't wrap his head around that plot twist. Why? Something about Bella had intrigued him, and he wasn't done toying with her. But to what purpose?

"Please say something." Bella's voice, for the first time, was strained. Scared.

Edward's head snapped up, and he realized she was staring at him, her features twisted. He'd been too still. Inhumanly still, and she'd read it as something negative toward her. "Oh, Bella," he said in a whisper. "I'm so sorry."

She exhaled in a gust and looked down. "So you believe me."

"I said I did." It hurt to look at her. To see her so slumped. Defeated. She was trembling, and her pulse was thready. "You have no idea how very much I want to hug you right now."

Instead, she hugged herself, wrapping her arms around her shoulders. "But you can't." She huffed. "I wouldn't want to touch me either."

"No. Oh, no. Bella." He shook his head, cursing himself for being stupid enough to make that statement out loud. "No, that's not what I meant. It just… It wouldn't be a good idea."

She nodded, not looking at him. "My dad can't touch me most of the time," she murmured.

Edward frowned. He hadn't meant for her to take it on herself, but what else could he say?

The truth, some voice in his head urged. Why not? She obviously already knew vampires existed.

But she'd be terrified of him, and how could he protect her then? Though if he was being honest with himself, that wasn't the largest concern-not anymore. He had the strange thought that for her to be afraid of him would be the most terrible thing in the world, second only to the monster Jasper's atrocities.

Edward stood and took the afghan from the back of the couch. He walked to her slowly. She didn't start, didn't move. She kept looking away, though he could hear her heartbeat quicken. Carefully, he laid the afghan over her shoulders and rested his hands there with the lightest of touches. He felt her shudder, but she didn't pull away.

"You're the bravest person I've ever known," he said quietly, speaking the simple truth.

She laughed. The sound was bitter, and he saw a tear streak down her cheek. How he longed to brush it away. "I'm not brave. I'm barely breathing."

Very, very carefully, he squeezed her shoulders. It wasn't enough. It wasn't nearly enough, but it was the most he could give her right then.

It wasn't lost on him, though, that despite everything, all she'd been through, she didn't shy away from his touch. Despite everything, it felt good to touch her. Even through the blanket, he could feel her warmth.

Did that mean, then, that she could feel his coldness?

Reluctantly, Edward took a few steps backward and sat again in the chair facing her. "It won't always be so hard. To breathe, I mean."

Again, she laughed. That horribly bitter sound. "How do you figure? Don't you know what this means? They're stronger than us. So much stronger. I could feel how much he was holding back with me. He could have crushed me, crushed my bones to dust with little effort. He jumped from the third floor of my apartment, and the fact he got in there without opening the front door means he got in through the balcony door.

"He was fast. Too fast for me to see him move. It was like he appeared wherever he wanted to go." She'd drawn her legs up onto the couch and made herself as small a ball as was possible. She rocked slightly, still not looking at him. "And he can't be the only one. If he's out there, hunting, then so are others. There's no such thing as being safe. There's no such thing as being able to breathe again.

"That fucking bastard. He said the only thing that could kill a vampire was another vampire. Maybe it's not true, but it's not like we can test that theory, right? What are we supposed to do? Go on some kind of epic quest to find a vampire that wouldn't kill us on sight? Wouldn't drink us dry?" Shaking, she hid her face at her knees. "Like they even exist."

They did, he wanted to tell her. She hadn't found one vampire that could help her. She'd found five.

He almost told her, but what would that have done to her fragile psyche? For her to know she was surrounded by five vampires, not counting the one she had to at least suspect was stalking her?

"I'm sorry," Bella said. "That was so selfish of me."

Edward furrowed his brow. "What? What was selfish?"

"To tell you all that." She raised her head, though she still didn't look at him. "You're going to be as paranoid as I am. It was a shitty thing to do."

"Don't worry about me. I'm glad you told me."

"Ha. Wait until tonight. Try to go to sleep knowing some superhuman freak can come snatch you out of your bed at any instant, and kill everyone you love before you can even scream." She shuddered.

 _Don't worry about my sleep. I don't sleep._ "I've been an insomniac all my life." This was true. Even as a human, he hadn't slept much. "You don't need to worry about me."

"I shouldn't have told you."

"I'm your friend, Bella. Your burdens are mine." He paused, searching for something to say, something that would make it even a little bit better. There was nothing, of course. Not until he could let her light the bastard's pieces on fire.

"It will end," he said finally.

"Somehow," she agreed. "Everything has an end."

There was something in her tone that turned his frozen bones several degrees colder.

"I'm tired," she said before he could say anything else. "I want to sleep."

 _You can sleep. I'll watch over you_ , he wanted to say, but he knew how little comfort that would bring. Instead, he stood. She didn't move from her place on the couch. Knowing damn well he was pushing it, but unable to help himself, Edward gave her shoulder one more squeeze.

"I'm here, Bella. Whenever you need," he said.

Then, he left. He drove his car out of sight and came right back, scaling a tree in sight of her bedroom window. Not that he could see anything, of course. She had her heavy blinds drawn as usual.

But he could hear her. He heard her slow step on the stairs and the creak of her bed. He heard the rustle of blankets and the uneven pull of her breaths. Eventually, though, her breathing evened out, and she slept.

"I will make you safe again," he whispered his vow once more.

Nothing had ever felt more important.

* * *

 **A/N: Soooooooooo.**

 **How we doing?**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Hello, lovelies! Sorry for the late post. If it makes you feel better, I posted before I finished my homework that's due in two hours… See? I have priorities straight. Disneyland. Fanfic. Homework. Anyone would make that choice, right?**

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~Edward~

Edward looked around at his family—gathered around the dinner table that would never see dinner—and began his plea. He looked to his father. "I know you were loathe to get involved before, but this is different, is it not?"

His mouth set in a tight line, Carlisle nodded. "It is. You know very well it wasn't that I wanted harm to come to Bella. We had nothing to go on, and Jasper is dangerous." He cocked his head, and Edward could hear his thoughts as he considered, for the millionth time, the situation. "Now, however, we have something of an advantage—something to go on rather than running into him when we're not prepared. If he's skirting the edge of our territory, perhaps something can be done. Some sort of trap?"

"You think he won't pick up on the fact he's being hunted?" Rosalie asked.

"We'll be careful about it, babe," Emmett said. "We can't let this guy continue to creep around, right? If he does get to Bella again, that really is our fault." He smirked. "Plus, I have this weird feeling Edward would be inconsolable if something happened to her." He reached out to ruffle Edward's hair.

Edward ducked away from Emmett. He was too angry to be playful. He needed his family on board with this. "He's a threat we need to neutralize. I just need to know if you're with me or not."

Esme leaned forward, her face pinched. "I can't say I like it." She took a deep breath—a habit of hers even though she didn't need to. "But I don't have to like it. If he's stalking this territory, he's dangerous to us. And the idea he could get his hands on Bella again, after what he's already done to her…" She shuddered.

"But you need to promise me something, Edward." Carlisle leaned across the table. "You need to be smart about this. We need information to make the right choices, and you're in the best position to get that information."

"But I'm also the biggest hothead?" Edward said, reading his thoughts.

His father's lip twitched. "Well. I didn't say it." His expression gentled. "I don't need to be a mind reader to know how you feel about Jasper, Edward. Our rage is potent when we're provoked. It makes us blind. I don't want to see it kill you."

"I'll be careful."

~Jasper~

The nice thing about being immortal was that it gave one a lot of patience. There was no need for impatience, after all. He wasn't getting any younger, nor was he getting any older.

So the girl, wittingly or otherwise, had surrounded herself with supernatural beings. There were the shapeshifters to the North. Wasn't that an interesting twist? And then there was that strange coven.

If Bella wasn't aware of them, they were aware of her and, by extension, aware of him. He'd caught the scent of all of them, but particularly the strange one; the youngest one. Jasper knew a perimeter when he saw one—or smelled one, in this case. The Cullens, or at least the young one, was guarding Bella.

Very interesting.

The shapeshifters and the vampires weren't friends; Jasper could tell that by how distinct their territories were. The one didn't cross over into the other. Except for one space, right on the line of their territories. A meeting had taken place there, and recently. It was no surprise that after that discovery, the shapeshifters' territory got much more well defined. They were patrolling.

Very interesting indeed.

Jasper was many things, but suicidal wasn't one of them. With a little strategy, he might be able to defeat the five members of the Cullen coven, but even that was a long shot. With the shapeshifters, he didn't stand a chance.

The nice thing about humans was that they were impatient. Their lives were finite, so they couldn't afford to wait. The tiny town of Forks couldn't contain a woman like Bella Swan forever. So it was a matter of waiting her out.

Again, it proved advantageous to be a vampire. Jasper could afford to be tireless. He took many trips between Forks and Seattle, testing for holes in their defenses.

On a hunch, Jasper spent a good few weeks finding the little girl Bella had been so protective over the day they met. Cynthia. Humans could be trusted to be nostalgic, especially about children. He would bet Bella would want to see the girl sooner rather than later.

His theory proved right.

He passed by the little girl's house and heard her chattering excitedly inside. "Do you think Bella will stay? Can she be my babysitter again?"

Cynthia's mother sighed. "Come here, lovely. Let's talk for a minute."

There was a rustle as the little girl went to her mother. Then, the woman spoke again. "Do you remember the last time we went to see Aunt Alice?"

"In the special hospital?"

"Yeah. Remember she was a little different because some very bad people did some very bad things to her?"

"She talked funny. Like it didn't make sense sometimes," Cynthia said, sounding sad.

"Yes. Exactly. Bella isn't like Aunt Alice, but a bad person did a very bad thing to her. Sometimes, when bad things happen to good people, it hurts them in their mind instead of on their bodies. And that hurt makes them a little different. Bella is working very hard to get better, but she's not better enough to take care of you yet. Her job is to get better. Do you understand?"

Jasper could feel the sorrow pouring off the little girl. In his mind's eye, he replayed his time with Bella.

It wasn't untrue—what Cynthia's mother was saying. Jasper had never denied he'd done a bad thing. He'd done many bad things. He did recognize what he was by human standards.

The problem was that humans lacked perspective. Yes, he understood the humans he'd killed suffered. That was most of the point. Their suffering was part of the price he inflicted on himself. He felt their pain—felt the soul-rending agony along with every single one of his victims.

And it was such a temporary pain. Two weeks was nothing even in a human lifespan. In his defense, he'd never intended to let any of them live to suffer the lasting repercussions of having their psyche so thoroughly dissected. They suffered, gave him their secrets, themselves, and they rested. Most people would be forgotten in a few generations. His victims would be remembered in painstaking detail for all of his immortal life.

Bella was an anomaly, but anyway, they weren't giving her enough credit. She was strong, and now he had an opportunity to show her he meant her no harm. Not anymore.

"Mom?" Cynthia's voice was shaky, her emotions sad and worried.

"Yes?"

"Is Bella going to disappear like Aunt Alice?"

Her mother sighed. "I don't think so. Sometimes, baby, more than one bad thing happens to the same person."

"That's not fair."

"No. That's not fair at all."

Humans were so strange. Fairness was a completely fictional idea. The natural world had never been fair and would never be fair. For inventing the concept, human history had never been fair either. From birth to old age, no person nor animal was exempt from suffering.

Yet, humans continued to moan as though the lack of fairness in the world was a bad thing. It was neither bad nor good; it was what it was. It struck Jasper as rather melodramatic to act as though the world should be something else. Rather like whining that the sky wasn't green.

How would the humans like it if vampires—higher on the food chain by any stretch of the imagination—kept them in pens specifically to be slaughtered and fed from? Yet he knew from the smell of their blood Cynthia and her mother both ate meat. Perhaps they should talk to the cows and chickens about fairness.

Was it fair that he could feel everything his prey felt? He was a living—such as it was—being, after all. His hunger could only be slaked by one thing: blood. That wasn't his fault. He shouldn't have to feel guilty for taking what he needed any more than the humans should feel guilty for needing protein.

Jasper was struck, then, by a wave of longing. Since he'd gotten it into his head that Bella would make a good vampire, he had longed for the future he could see within his grasp. What good was being a philosopher without someone to discuss with?

While not ideal for a friendly connection, Jasper's methods had that as an unexpected side-effect. He'd learned about Bella—who she truly was—and so an attraction had sparked for him. It wouldn't have been possible if he hadn't done what he'd done.

She was smart and strong. She would see things his way once she had a chance to overcome her understandable fear of him. She was, after all, human for the time being. He understood how fragile human minds were, even strong ones like Bella's. He would have to take things very slowly.

Well. He had nothing but time, and he'd done nothing these last few months besides prepare scenario after scenario. He was ready to begin.

~Bella~

She had to stop five times on the drive up to Seattle, too shaky to drive.

It wasn't that she thought Forks was safer. It was just that one could only jump at the same shadows so many times. She was used to the trees in Forks, the alleys. The four hour drive to Seattle? She wasn't used to any of it.

Was it a blessing or a curse that the low speed limit on the highway let her take in too much scenery? She could see so much of the landscape, and as her mind was well aware, Jasper—or some other monster—could be anywhere, she wanted to look everywhere at once. It was exhausting and terrifying.

Bella pulled over for the fifth time in a residential area near downtown Seattle. She rested her head against the steering wheel, trying to take a deep breath.

Why, why, why the fuck was she so stubborn? Cynthia had called, and for once, Bella answered the phone. The little girl had been so sweet when she begged Bella to come see her. How could she refuse?

Charlie had wanted to take the day and drive up, but Bella had refused his help. Partly, she wanted to believe she wasn't the total wreck she was. Mostly, though, she wanted to give Charlie a break. Her father spent all day worrying about her and came home to tend to her every night, even if it meant he was just in the house while she hid upstairs. He'd had a girlfriend before all this started. Bella didn't even know if that was true anymore.

So she'd made it up there alone, and now she would have to go back alone, because the idea of staying somewhere else wasn't an option. First of all, she was going to have nightmares tonight. That was a simple fact when she'd been under so much stress. Secondly, just thinking about the situation was giving her anxiety, forget about actually doing it.

Which was yet another reason why she should have let her dad drive her here. Or hell, maybe Edward would have been willing to do it. Either way, if she was driving, she had to be all the way lucid. No anti-anxiety meds for her. They made her too dizzy and the others made her loopy and tired.

Wiping away the excess tears, Bella started the truck again.

It went better than she'd expected. Bella had prepared herself—as much as one could prepare—for total disaster. She wasn't the same person Cynthia knew. But there was a reason Bella preferred children to adults. They were adaptable. Plus, she found she could accept a hug from Cynthia. She clung to Bella, squeezing as tightly as her tiny-girl arms allowed her to. It felt so good to be hugged that Bella almost cried.

Cynthia asked her a few basic questions about how bad her head was hurt. Bella told her a few of the tamer things she dealt with every day, and Cynthia said that knowing someone had hurt Bella hurt her heart.

And that was it. Cynthia had played with her as though nothing else had happened. She rattled on about some of the things Bella had missed, showed off her new toys, and instigated a game of Hungry, Hungry Hippos that her mother had gotten at a yard sale. She was patient when Bella stuttered and was quick to hug her when she flinched.

Other than when she was with Edward, it was the most relaxed Bella had been in months. Not that relaxed meant much to Bella yet. She was still tense, just not as tense as usual. At least Cynthia was okay with staying inside. Bella kept glancing at the woods that lined one whole side of the neighborhood.

They'd only been hanging out for a couple of hours when Mrs. Brandon came back from taking a phone call. She had that look in her eyes. That Mommy's-about-to-break-hearts look. "I'm sorry, kiddos. That was work. There's an emergency, and I really need to go in." She looked at Bella. "I need to leave now if I'm going to get Cynthia to my friend who agreed to watch her."

"No, Mommy," Cynthia whined. "Bella just got here."

"I know, honey. I really tried not to go in."

"But Bella can take care of me. She's okay, see?" Cynthia tugged on Bella's hand. "Tell Mommy your brain is okay today."

Bella winced. "Oh, sweetheart. If you want to know the truth, I'm really, really tired."

Cynthia brightened. "We can take a nap."

"Cynthia Alice," her mother said sternly. "Bella needs to go home. Remember what we talked about."

Cynthia looked sad. When Bella knelt beside her, she kissed her head. "Do you think enough kisses can make it better?"

Bella sighed, her heart twisting. "I really wish it worked that way."

As they all got ready to leave, Bella tried every coping mechanism she knew to calm down and mentally prepare for the exhausting prospect of driving back to Forks. Maybe if she put the radio on loud enough…

But already anxiety was beginning to crawl across her skin, marching down her spine and churning in her gut. She rubbed the back of the neck, her face gone clammy.

Mrs. Brandon opened the door and dread shot cold right to Bella's core. She raced forward, slamming the door shut again. "Wait!"

Both Cynthia and her mother stared. "What is it?" the older woman asked.

"I…" Bella shook her head, finding it hard to speak. "I don't know. I just…" She swallowed several times. "I'm sorry. That's my fault. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Bella. We understand." Cynthia threw her arms around Bella's waist.

Bella closed her eyes, letting her hand rest on the child's soft hair. She was freaking out for nothing.

They opened the door again, and Bella's eyes darted around. The neighborhood was too quiet. She wrapped her arms around her shoulders.

"Bella, are you going to be okay?" Mrs. Brandon asked. "Do I need to call someone?" She reached a hand out to touch Bella's shoulder.

That was a mistake. Bella yelped and flinched backward. "No. I...I'm sorry," she said. She was getting lightheaded. "Yeah. I'm… I'll be… I'm sorry." She stumbled toward her truck.

"Do you need—"

"I just need…" Bella gestured helplessly toward the truck. "I'm okay. You can leave. I'm okay. I need to sit a minute. That's all."

They both watched her for another anxious beat before Cynthia's mother started herding her in the direction of the car. Relieved, Bella all but ran to her truck.

She just couldn't escape the feeling something was out there. Something was watching. Even though she was trembling badly by then, she kept her eyes just above the steering wheel so she could see Cynthia and her mother get safely in the car. She raised her head as they backed out, waving to let them know she really was fine. She just needed a minute to calm down.

When they were out of eyesight, she groaned and rested her forehead on the steering wheel. "Just a minute," she whispered. "Just a minute. I'll be okay in just a minute."

She breathed in and out, in and out. The scene was too serene for anything horrible to happen, she told herself.

Bullshit, she knew.

But her breath got steadier. Little by little, the vice grip loosened on her chest.

Beside her, the door opened. She wasn't the one who opened it. Her head snapped up, but by then, she was already out of the car. A scream bubbled up to her throat and stayed trapped there as her mind scrambled to process what was happening.

Though everything in her screamed to break free, instinct had her curling closer to the stone chest of the thing that held her. They were moving too fast, and Bella felt sick. The trees, the gray sky, raced by at dizzying speed, and she closed her eyes tightly. Even if she'd wanted to push away, she couldn't have. The arms that looped under her legs and around her back held her in a stone grip—inhumanly strong.

Inhumanly fast.

Bella opened her eyes again. The only thing she could see was a blur of trees and black-gray clouds above. With little choice but to hold on, she ducked her head and tightened her arms around the cold, hard neck of her captor as they raced deeper into the forest, away from civilization.

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 **A/N: Please remember if you kill the author you will not find out what happens next. Yes, I promise this will be updated sooner than later.**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: But why is the weekend gone? Bleh.**

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With her breath caught in her chest, Bella thought her lungs would explode.

"Breathe."

The voice sent yet another shock through her overloaded system, further muddling her mind. That voice, commanding as it was, was incongruous with this moment. It didn't belong here. It couldn't belong here.

"Bella, breathe." The voice was no less commanding but much more urgent. "You have to breathe."

She couldn't. Her lungs and throat burned.

The cold sting of the air as they flew over the ground stopped as suddenly as it had started. There was ground beneath her, Bella realized. He'd put her down so smoothly, she hadn't even felt it.

"Breathe." He gave her shoulders a shake just hard enough to shock her system. She gasped.

"Good. Now, please listen. He's coming. Stay behind me. He won't hurt you. I won't let him."

And sure enough, she could hear something coming. She couldn't parse the sounds to understand them well enough, but she heard the violent rustle of leaves and branches and earth being churned up. Then, as the noise reached them, the world went silent with an unnatural stillness.

Breathing in and out with a wheeze, Bella wrenched her eyes open. Black spots danced before her, but not enough to obscure her vision. She cried out—a strangled sound of terror and confusion because the sight in front of her made no sense.

Across a wide clearing, his face twisted in a vicious snarl the likes of which chilled Bella to the marrow of her bones, was her nightmare come back to haunt her. Jasper. But he wasn't looking at her. No. His eyes—his crimson, malevolent eyes—were focused on the figure in front of her.

Edward Cullen.

She had to be imagining things, like she'd imagined his voice urging her to breath. There was no way gentle, bookstore-Edward could be there in front of her, facing her own private demon with her. She dragged in another breath. She had to tell him to run. It was her the monster wanted.

Before she could, he dropped into a defensive crouch. One of them made some god-awful hissing noise—the sound primal and threatening.

Then, they sprang, the movement so fast they blurred. A terrible noise echoed through the clearing, worse than thunder. Bella was helpless to do anything but watch in horror.

 _ **~Edward~**_

No matter how many times Carlisle warned him, Edward hadn't been able to take his warning seriously. After all, Edward had gotten the jump on Jasper once, had he not?

But Jasper wasn't in fight mode. Jasper in fight mode was a different beast altogether. He was good. Too good. Yes, Edward could still read his next move in his thoughts, but that was only enough to keep him alive.

The fight, for Jasper, was as close to nature as any learned behavior could be. He thought about what he was doing, but so quickly he was moving before the thought concluded.

Edward was fast. Very fast. It was what had allowed him to outrun Jasper in the first place, and it was keeping him alive now. Had he made a fatal mistake as his father had feared?

"Stop! Stop it! It's me you want. Don't hurt him."

It took a great deal to shock an immortal, but two? They both stopped mid leap, pulling back, each landing on their feet, arms thrown wide, facing the very fragile human girl who had run into the middle of their fight.

Bella stood between them, a hand held out to each of them. Her face was ashen, eyes wide and strange. She looked at him, stricken, but then she looked back at Jasper. "Don't hurt him," she said again.

Jasper studied her, and Edward could hear the line of his thoughts. She intrigued him. She amazed him, and…

Edward growled. "No. No, Bella, get away from him." He darted forward, taking Bella by the waist and flipping her over his back, facing away from Jasper. He narrowed his eyes, his body tensed to strike. The hell with Jasper's greater experience. Edward was angry, and he was going to rip the bastard apart. "You reinvent the meaning of the word monster. That was why you let her go? To make her your mate?"

Behind them, Bella made a strange gasping sound, but Edward couldn't turn to see her. He couldn't afford to.

Jasper cocked his head, straightening up out of fighting position as he stared at Edward. "You're a mind reader."

"And you're an asshole. You condescending prick. You think you understand this world and everything, everyone in it? You think you can make her love you. Do you think you love her? Do you think any of this, everything you've done to her, has anything to do with love?" As he spoke, he searched for an opening; any opening. His every thought was on the human woman behind him. He heard each of her breaths.

But despite his cool demeanor, Jasper gave no such opening. His eyes tracked Edward's every step, waiting for him to make a move—give him an excuse to end him.

"Love?" The other vampire was amused—like an adult who found a tiny child's inane ramblings precious. "You didn't pull that word from my head, boy, as I wouldn't have used it."

A series of memories flashed through his mind, and Edward only barely kept from reacting.

He was old. Ancient. As in, he'd known Plato personally ancient.

Smirking, Jasper stepped to the side, one leg over the other. His eyes never left Edward.

Of course, though he knew he was playing Jasper's game, Edward stepped with him, keeping Bella behind him. He heard the stutter in her breath, but she stepped with him.

"You think I don't know what love is, little boy? I know the difference between love and attraction. Love and admiration. Love and potential. And what, pray tell, use do monsters like us have with love?"

"I am nothing like you," he gritted out.

Jasper laughed. "Oh, of course not." He stopped. "No, to answer your question, I'm not in love with our fair Bella." He cocked his head. "But you are."

 _ **~Bella~**_

Bella's mind wasn't working right. Her brain couldn't accept what her eyes saw. It was too loud in her head.

Jasper was there, and her brain understood that well enough. Jasper was a demon, a monster. He was dangerous, and inescapable, and an innocent man like Edward Cullen shouldn't have been anywhere near him.

She wanted to protect Edward. It wasn't him the vampire wanted, after all, and if she was doomed to die—as she had been doomed the minute the beast set eyes on her—there was no reason he had to. Not if she could save him.

But then, none of that made sense either. It made no sense that it was him who had pulled her from her truck and run into the forest, run away from civilization at speeds that had to be impossible. It was him who'd stepped in front of her, who had vowed that he could protect her.

 _No_ , she'd wanted to scream at him. _You can't. I can't. The only thing you can do is die._

It was him circling now, his arms spread wide, as he and the bastard traded barbs.

 _Mind reader_ , Jasper had said. More impossible things.

So, her mind had compartmentalized. Jasper was the monster. Edward was her friend. Edward was innocent. Edward was vulnerable. Edward was her responsibility, and if she could save him, she would. She had to try. It was the only thing she could do.

"Okay, I'm done. I'm fucking done."

Bella stepped around Edward, the move jerky and fast before she could change her mind. He called her name, and reached out to stop her. His fingers curled around her wrist.

His cold, rock hard fingers.

Bella cried out. Not in pain. He hadn't been rough, hadn't yanked her to a stop. He merely held her, but his grip was unbreakable.

Just like Jasper's had been.

Right in front of her eyes, he'd moved fast. Blindingly fast.

Just like Jasper.

He'd picked her up like she weighed nothing and run with her into the woods. Flipped her around so fast that it had taken her almost a full minute to realize she was facing the opposite direction she had been before. She stared into his eyes in shock, realizing in that moment that he didn't have glasses on. And his eyes weren't light, light, light brown as they always looked in the dimness of the coffee shops they frequented, behind his glasses. They were gold. They were other.

His speed. His strength. His eyes. His cold, strong body. Edward Cullen wasn't human.

He was a vampire.

Just like Jasper.

Only a second had passed since he'd grabbed her. She started when Jasper spoke. "Oh, she's scared of you, precious," he said. "Let her come to me, if that's what she wants."

Bella shuddered and only barely managed to swallow a whimper. No. It wasn't what she wanted. Of course, it wasn't. She shrank back, yanking her hand from Edward's. Despite the fact she knew he could have held her fast easily, he let her go. When she stepped backward, he stepped with her—a small step that kept him from further invading her personal space. His eyes lingered on her, tortured and—

And then she was flying backward, the breath knocked out of her. She landed some distance away and scrambled onto her knees as quickly as she could, trying to gain her bearings as she gasped for air.

Across the clearing—further away than he'd been a moment ago—Jasper sprang to his feet. Edward, standing in the center, had a hand out, fingers splayed wide as though he'd pushed Jasper instead of Bella. Had he pushed them both in opposite directions?

Whatever the case, Jasper sprang again. Bella had just a glimpse of bared teeth. Edward moved just on time, barrel-rolling away and then right back on his feet. But he was obviously on the defensive, up against the most lethal being Bella had ever known. If she could get in a deep breath, she would have screamed. Her mind screamed.

No. No. No.

Not Edward. Not her friend.

"I'm going to end you, boy," she heard Jasper snarl as he went at Edward yet again. Again, Edward dodged, but not enough. Jasper grabbed his arm, pulled him back. There was a terrible noise as their bodies crashed together—like a thunder clap. Bella put her hands over her ears. Then another sound. One that made Bella's stomach churn, though she didn't know why. There a screech, like twisting metal, and Edward screamed.

When Edward stumbled back, there was a tear in his shirt and part of his shoulder wasn't there. It wasn't bleeding. It just wasn't there. His face was twisted in agony, and Bella remembered the pain of Jasper's bite—the inescapable burn as he held her tightly against him.

Jasper sprang again, and Edward rolled onto his back, catching the brunt of his attacker's weight on his feet and launching him backward. As outrageously inhuman as the move was, Bella could also tell Edward was about to lose.

She didn't think. She couldn't anymore. Edward was a vampire. A liar. A monster. But she couldn't think about any of that, because the only thing she could think was that she didn't want him dead.

Not. Edward.

She had to do something. It wasn't something she had to think about, merely a fact.

 _ **~Edward~**_

"Stop!"

Edward would have thought throwing herself between two warring vampires had to be the most dangerous thing Bella could do. He was proven wrong. With her cry came a scent. That glorious, maddening scent. Blood. The call to hunt rang through his veins, overwriting even the pain in his arm. He flipped over onto his hands and knees, ready to take what was his.

Never would he understand where he found the strength, but when he saw her—pale-faced with terror, shaking where she stood, but still standing tall with blood running down one arm and a splintered branch in the other—Edward froze. It was all he could do. He couldn't move. Not the barest hint of an inch, or the girl would be done for. He stilled, holding his limbs taut to save her life. The demon inside him roared in fury.

Likewise, beside him, Jasper was on his feet, frozen. He growled low in his throat, and his thoughts didn't help matters. Bella did smell good to him. Better than most. Not as good to him as she did to Edward, but delicious and tempting.

Bella was glaring at Jasper, and whatever tiny part of him was left to think was in awe of her. He knew she was scared. He could see it on her face and smell it in the air. Yet she had just...

Well. She'd saved his life. Again.

Jasper was angry. He, too, was trying to harness the demon inside him. How he hated being out of control. He glared at Bella, and she shrank under his gaze.

But if he was going to do anything more than glare, none of them would know. Jasper's head cocked in the other direction. Edward heard in his thoughts the keen, well-honed alertness. Someone else was coming. More than one. A second later, Edward heard them too, heard their minds.

With one last snarl, Jasper turned tail and ran. Not, he thought, that he couldn't take them. But to take them and keep Bella alive in the midst of a three on one vampire fight? They were odds Jasper didn't want to take; not when he didn't have to.

"Bella," Edward rasped. "Get away. You're too close." It would take nothing at all to leap at her from this distance, and the barely contained demon inside him was controlled by a threat.

Bella, looking deathly pale now, stumbled backward. Almost at the same instant, Carlisle and Esme emerged from the trees at top speed. Carlisle locked his arms around Edward and Edward didn't fight. Esme went to Bella.

That was the final straw for Bella. She screamed and jumped when Carlisle and Esme appeared—it must have seemed to her out of nowhere—and adrenaline was no longer enough to sustain her. With an exhale, she swayed and fell. Esme caught her easily, and Edward bowed his head—relieved and ashamed.

Her blood wasn't flowing freely by then—it had just been a scratch—but it was still too fresh. Edward remained motionless, on his knees with his father's firm grip on his arms. He could hear his father's indecision. Esme was struggling with the fresh blood too. Not as much as Edward, of course, but enough.

"You take her," Edward said to his father. "Take her home, but make sure Emmett and Rosalie aren't there."

Carlisle hesitated, and Edward roiled. He gritted his teeth. "Switch places. I won't fight. I swear I won't."

His word, as always, was enough for his father. Esme set Bella down carefully and retreated across the clearing to Edward. She took hold of him, her grip just as tight as Carlisle's, while his father pulled Bella up into his arms. Already, he was in doctor mode, checking her over for injury and listening to her heartbeat.

How Edward wished he was strong enough to be the one to hold Bella like that, to take care of her. It was all he had wanted to do.

That and drain her dry.

Edward groaned and slumped when Carlisle was far enough away that only the lingering scent of Bella's sweet blood remained. He was gaining more of himself, his humanity, back by the second. Though still some base part of him was calculating how quickly he could catch up to and overtake Carlisle. He was faster, after all.

Beside him, his mother rested her head against his back, waiting for him to come back to himself. "It'll be all right," she said intermittently.

And for a second, he wanted to be a teenager again. He wanted to be the teenager who had everything figured out and walked around, cocky as hell, until he realized just how little he actually knew. He wanted to be a teenager, because then he'd be allowed to collapse into his mother's embrace, and he'd still believe her when she said it would be all right.

How could it be?

His father had been right. Edward was a child compared to Jasper—a baby, even. The demon had fighting skills the likes of which Edward could only begin to comprehend, and he'd had millennium of experience and knowledge to use against them. Hell, if he'd wanted to, he likely could have wiped them all out with enough effort. He retreated only because he was secure in the fact he _would_ get what he wanted. There was no need to rush; no need to strike when he wasn't in control of every variable.

How could he protect Bella?

And perhaps more pressing at the moment—would Bella let him?

Did she hate him now? Would she be afraid?

"What's this going to do to her?" he said out loud.

"We can't know until we know," Esme said, relaxing her hold on him. She stood and darted a few feet away. When she came back, she pressed something to his shoulder.

It _was_ his shoulder. Part of it, anyway. Edward hissed as the venom knitted the pieces back together. With everything else, he'd hardly registered the agony of Jasper's bite.

His mother rubbed the spot, and he was almost surprised that she didn't kiss it better. Instead, she raised her head to look at him. "We'll all be there for her. That might mean more than you think."

"More than finding out you're surrounded by the thing you're most terrified of?" He sighed, and straightened up a bit more.

"It will be all right," Esme said again.

Edward didn't answer. He'd believe that when he saw it.

More minutes passed before Edward pushed to his feet. "I'm ready," he lied. "Let's go."

Not for the first time, as they ran back to the house, Edward found that he was glad no one in his family could read minds. Right now, he didn't want anyone to know what kept coming to the forefront of his thoughts. With so many pressing issues to deal with, Edward couldn't stop thinking about Jasper's words.

 _I'm not in love with our fair Bella, but you are._

The thing was, once Jasper had voiced the words, Edward knew they were true. He loved Bella Swan. Impossible and hopeless as it was, it was also true. He loved her.

And he was terrified that she would hate him now that she'd seen him for who he was.

* * *

 **A/N: So many thanks to Packy and Songster for all their help talking this one out with me. Thanks to Mina, MoH, and Eleanor.**

 **And thank you, my lovelies out there in fanfic land. Mwah.**

 **How are we feeling now? Lots of questions. They'll be answered next chap. Promise. Well. Most of them.**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: *hand holding* Shorty chapter, okay?**

* * *

Bella stirred, her mind muddled and confused. Heavy, like it was when she fell asleep for too long or too short a time. She sighed as perception leaked in through the cracks in the haze. Sensing that rolling to one side would leave her on the ground, she realized she was on the couch. Strange. It was rare she even sat on the couch unless Charlie was home. Was he home? She tried to remember.

Her eyes flew open as she recalled her last memories. Two people appearing out of nowhere at her side. The blond demon rushing at Edward. Edward's terrible scream.

Edward.

Her vision focused, and she shouldn't have been surprised to find him there. He was across the room, standing with his back against a bookshelf, his eyes on her. Bella gasped, sitting up and slamming herself against the back of the couch. She wedged herself in the corner furthest away from him. Her eyes darted around the room. There were a lot of books. It reminded her of the library in the house where the bastard had kept her.

"Where am I?" she blurted. Her voice trembled.

"This is my home. My room." His voice was soft. He hadn't moved from the corner. He hadn't moved a muscle. His eyes followed her, but not the way Jasper's had. Not like cat watching its prey, tail twitching in anticipation. He had…

Well. He had Edward's eyes. The same concern and sadness.

Bella clapped her hands over her ears and shook her head. Her heart was pounding, and her thoughts were too loud. He was her friend, her only friend, but he was a…

She looked around the room again, trying to find the door. It was open. That was confusing. Wasn't she a prisoner? A prisoner again at the whim of a…

"You're a vampire." Surprisingly, her voice sounded more angry than frightened. Although she was. She was scared out of her mind, but she was also so, so tired of being afraid. She also wanted to laugh. In fact, she cradled her head in her hands and she did. Maniacally. She looked to him again. "You're a vampire," she said just to make herself believe it.

He looked so sad. "Bella…" He took a step forward.

Bella was up off the couch in an instant. She stumbled backward and bumped her back so hard against the desk on the opposite side of the room that she knew she'd be bruised. She opened her mouth to scream at him not to touch her but quickly snapped it shut again. What the hell good would that do her? She'd seen how fast he moved.

He'd frozen again, going back to his tense place. "I won't hurt you."

With those words, something inside her snapped. She was so angry. It was a fury she didn't know what to do with, coming as it did here, where she was stuck with a monster again. It was so huge, she didn't understand how her body could hold it. She thought for a wild second that she was going to explode, really explode. Combust. There was nothing rational about this anger—nothing even sane about it.

Bella screamed. It wasn't a human scream, but something that came from the very depths of her mangled heart and soul. She had no words that could have defined the utter betrayal roiling inside her. The hurt. Because she had trusted him. He was the only one in the entire world, her one in seven billion, who could understand her, could believe her.

Of course he could believe. He believed in vampires because he was one.

Blindly, Bella reached out and got a hold of something. She didn't even know what it was. It was heavy, and she probably shouldn't have been able to lift it, but she threw it with more strength than she actually had across the room. She saw it hit him. Saw _it_ shatter in a cacophony of pieces and parts that scattered across the wooden floor. He didn't flinch. Didn't move.

That frustrated her. She wanted to hurt him. She wanted to see him broken and bleeding on the floor for what he'd done to her heart. Bella picked up something else and threw that too. Again and again. She threw books and statuettes, a vase, a bonsai plant, a stereo. She threw whatever she could get her hands on. He didn't move, just let all of it crash against him. She threw one book so hard, the spine shattered.

None of it fazed him. He stood stock still, like a rock wall, letting all the carnage rain down around him like the remnants of a hurricane.

With a final cry, Bella fell to the floor, panting, holding herself up on trembling arms. Her lungs burned, and she sucked in a wheezing breath. She'd started to sob, overcome with fear and fury. Part of her waited for him to retaliate, to come and tear her to pieces because she knew he was capable. She was helpless. Completely helpless to stop him. Anything he wanted to do, he could, and she would never be able to stop him.

"Tell me how to hurt you," she screamed, her voice a rasp.

"Bella." He didn't move, but his voice sounded as raw as hers felt. "You're tearing me apart right now."

She raised her head. He looked pained. So pained it hurt _her._ Edward was her friend, and she didn't want to see him hurting.

With a growl of frustration, she looked away. Edward wasn't her friend. He was a monster. A vampire. Like the demon.

The demon had told her he wanted to break her. Break her mind. Shatter it. And oh, god, she'd never felt so close to the brink of insanity. Some part of her had to admire the brilliance of what Jasper had done. Jasper and Edward. They were in this together, weren't they? Working to take her apart from the inside.

"End it," she said.

There was a pause. "What?"

She looked up again and glared at him. "End it," she said through gritted teeth. "I can't take this anymore. I can't do it. I'll tell you anything you want to know. Just let me tell you and finish it."

"I'm not going to hurt you."

Bella wrapped her arms around herself as though somehow that could keep her together. She was so close to shattering she could feel it, could feel each of the cracks going all the way through her. It was too much. Too painful. "What more can you do? You wanted to drive me out of my mind. I'm here. I'm done. You won. What do you and your friend want to know? I'll tell you anything. Just end it."

He made a noise. A strangled sound—mournful and aching. "That bastard is not my friend." The words came out hard and angry. Bella tightened her arms around herself, flinching. He sighed. "I'm not like him, Bella. I won't hurt you. I swear I won't. I'm still your friend."

"My friend." Her tone was scathing, and her anger surged again. She got to unsteady feet, her hands balled in fists at her side. She thought about how Jasper's cool, arrogant demeanor was broken when she cut herself on the tile of the shower. And then when she'd scratched herself earlier that day. She remembered how Edward held himself, tensed like an animal about to pounce.

 _Bella. You're too close._

Not so helpless. She could take their perfectly honed control away from them, the bastards. The demons. The monsters. She could do that. Jasper had come close to killing her before his planned time. She just had to keep pushing.

She took a step forward.

Edward watched her, still unmoving. His eyes, however, grew wary. "I want nothing more than I want that prick in burning pieces at your feet. I'd kill anyone who hurt you, and I will kill him."

Through his words, Bella kept pacing forward, debating. Could she break her skin with her nails? No. Too blunt. She needed to be quick. There was glass in the debris all around him. Glass and shattered plastic. If she could get to one, she could slash her wrists.

"Bella, whatever you're about to try, please don't. I will stop you, and I don't want to have to do that. I don't want to restrain you. Please don't make me."

He was begging. Not just his words, but his tone. His tone was a desperate plea, heart-wrenching enough that it stopped her in her tracks.

She was close now. Close enough that all he had to do was reach out and grab her, if that was what he wanted. She took another step, smaller this time, uncertain.

"I'm still me," he said in a whisper, his eyes intense on hers, likewise begging her to believe him. "I'm still the same person you sat across from at the diner. Our friendship is real."

Bella whimpered. She wanted to. With everything she had left in her, every mangled piece of her heart, she wanted to believe him. She wanted to trust him. She had no one left. She needed him so much.

"Let me explain. Let me show you. It can be okay. Not all of us are like him. Not all of us are monsters. Not like him."

And she laughed. This laugh was hard—bitter and raw as her aching throat. The laugh cut off just as abruptly with a roar she she closed the distance between them, getting in his face, stopping just short of touching him. "There are too many fucking monsters!"

He'd finally moved. He'd brought his hands up, but he hadn't touched her. They hovered close. Ready. And he was right. He was too quick. Even if she had a knife in her hands right now, he was too quick. Without a distraction, he'd be able to stop her from hurting herself.

She shook her head, hard, trying to outrun the helplessness that threatened again. She didn't want to feel it anymore, couldn't deal with that emotion on top of everything else. So she concentrated on snarling at him instead. Anger was the only power she had left. "Human monsters took everything from me. Everything. I was a stupid, naive kid, and they broke me." She inhaled in a gasp, flexing her fingers into fists at her side. "But everyone who tried to put me back together again said I had to trust. I had to believe that there weren't monsters around every corner.

"They even told me I was still capable of love. Of being loved. Of trusting someone that much." She sneered at him, hating him and longing for his comfort all at once. She had never wanted to run to someone's sheltering arms as much as she wanted to run to his. Run from him to him. It was impossible. All of it was so impossible. "They told me I could still have anything I wanted. There's no way for me to tell the monsters from the good guys, but I'm supposed to take that leap, because not all men.

"Then that fucking bastard found me. I can't tell the difference between a human and a supernatural piece of shit, and you want me to trust you because not all vampires?!" She raised a fist.

Bella was shaking. It took her seconds to figure out she was trembling so badly, her clenched teeth were chattering. Her anger wasn't enough. It wasn't enough to hold back everything else. The sustained terror was too much for one body to withstand. She couldn't do this alone. She _needed_ to trust someone. She needed to not be so completely alone in this.

Her knees buckled. Before she could crumple, he caught her. His body was rock hard and cold. Despair overtook her. He was a vampire. An atrocious, despicable…

But he was her friend. His arms, solid as they were, were gentle around her. They were the only stable thing in a world about to fall to pieces. He didn't hold so much as caged her in so she didn't fall in a heap. Instead, he sank to the floor with her.

Bella felt her shoulders shaking. She was crying again, and she was so sick of it. She was so sick and tired of all this bullshit. She just needed…

Before she could think twice, she scrambled into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. He hesitated a moment before his arms came around her wrapping her up tight. Bella waited for the cloying claustrophobia of restraint to set in, but it didn't. Instead, some tiny part of her was soothed. Her body and psyche interpreted his action as a hug.

She really needed a hug. She really needed just one person to cling to in this world gone mad. And if that one person was a vampire, well… Maybe that wasn't so crazy in the light of everything else that she'd been forced to believe.

As she began to cry—quiet tears that slid down his cold neck like condensation down glass—he rocked her. He murmured against her hair. "I have you. I'm here. No one is going to hurt you."

She believed him. Part of her screamed that she was the world's biggest moron, but it didn't stop the simple fact she believed him. Despite everything the world had taught her, despite his lie, and his betrayal, she trusted him.

Not all vampires.

Not him.

* * *

 **A/N: Rawr! Thanks to Mina, Packy, Betsy, Eleanor, MoH, and Julie for their input.**

 **How we doing out there, kiddos? Breathing?**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Hello from TMFU!**

* * *

She was so warm. Warm and small. Warm and small and perfect in his arms.

Not for the first time, Edward cursed his vampiric mind. He didn't want to be able to think about forty different things at once. He didn't want to be aware of Bella's pulse—she smelled so good. He didn't want to be so cognizant of her fragility. Her skin was so thin, and the blood so hot just beneath it.

Edward didn't want his gift. He didn't want to hear Carlisle talking to him. _Do you need us? Call us if you do. Before you get in trouble._ He didn't want to hear Esme's thoughts; her memories about his constant obsession with Bella, the way he spoke of her, and what he was doing now. His mother was putting together the pieces, coming to the same conclusion that Jasper had read in his emotions.

He was in love with Bella, and he couldn't stop thinking about that either.

What he wanted was for his focus to be solely on what Bella needed. He had never known it could hurt so much to watch someone else's pain. Even the pain of burning in the change, the excruciating pain of venom burning his bloodstream dry, didn't hold a candle to the agony etched on Bella's face.

 _End it._ She'd begged him to kill her, and the idea was unimaginable. _Not unless you tell me how to follow you_ , he'd thought. Because he'd known in that moment that when Bella died, he wouldn't want to live.

For so many years since his change, since he became a monster, he had thought it would have been better had Carlisle let him die. But now, he knew there was a difference between knowing he should die, perhaps deserved it, and wishing for death.

Was this what love always was for everyone? It was devastating. He wasn't human. Vampires were made of stone, their hearts long dead, and yet…

He was altered. Changed and irrevocably tied to this beautiful, amazing being with frail human skin. Her pain, her despair, was his. It stoked a fire in him, a raging inferno that made him want to dash out the door right now, find her demon, and slay him not once, but over and over again until he had paid.

But he'd failed at that. He could only hold her. It was a poor substitute, but it was what he had. And she could have all he had. All he was.

He wouldn't hurt her. No. He couldn't.

When her tears subsided and her heartbeat slowed, Edward expected Bella to push away from him. She didn't. She was almost as still as he was, resting with her head on his shoulder, each puff of breath hot on his neck. He wondered how long it had been since she'd let anyone hold her.

That was something to think about. How often had she been touched at all since she was seventeen? And who would have held her like this? Her mother and father perhaps, except that Bella always talked as though she was the one taking care of them.

As he was pondering this rather profound thought, Bella's hand, the one braced against his upper stomach, slid up his chest and beneath his collar. He would have frozen if he wasn't already still as a statue. As it was, his every thought coalesced into one.

Her fingers were on his bare skin, skimming over his shoulder beneath his shirt, and he couldn't for the life of him understand what was happening. That she was in his arms at all was a miracle. This intimate touch was beyond his comprehension.

"Bella?"

Instantly, she drew back her hand and straightened up. "I'm sorry." The words came out in a rush, her voice rubbed raw from screaming. "I didn't mean… I wasn't thinking."

"It's not that I mind." He kept his voice even, not wanting to betray his bewilderment.

Bella furrowed her brow and touched him again on his shoulder, over his clothes this time. She gave a huff and let her hand drop. "I just… I could have sworn you were injured."

Edward kept himself from reacting, but he was surprised. There had been so much going on in the clearing; there was no way a human could have processed it all, right? "I'm fine."

"He tore a chunk off your shoulder. How is that even possible?"

Of course she'd seen that. At some point, he would get used to the idea that this little human could shock him.

Bella started to slide back off his lap, but Edward held her fast. She tensed, and he hated the fear that flitted across her features.

"I'm sorry," he said, though he didn't let her go. "I just need you to be careful. There's so much glass."

Bella looked around and gasped. "Oh. Oh, Edward. I'm sorry." She sucked in another breath. "Did I...hit you with a stereo?"

"Among other things." Even the memory of her fury was a dagger to his dead heart. "But don't be sorry. It's the least of what I deserve. If you'll permit me, I'm going to carry you over all this. Then I'll answer any question you have, okay?"

She looked uncertain, worrying her lower lip between her teeth, but she nodded and looped her arms around his neck. He stood with her in his arms and carried her over the carnage, to the safety of the couch. He set her down on one end and sat on the other, giving her space.

"Our teeth are sharp," he said. "Sharp enough to bite through our skin." He hesitated only a moment before he pulled his shirt up and off. He'd changed out of his shredded shirt right before she stirred.

"Oh," Bella whispered under her breath. Surprising him again, she scooted closer, her eyes on his shoulder. She reached out, and ran her finger over the shape of the wound.

It was similar to a human scar—a line—that traced the chunk of himself that Jasper had detached from his body. The teeth marks were more obvious on the top. The skin wasn't raised or red. Where the venom had touched the skin was stark, bone white. Where his skin had knitted together, it was a single hue darker.

"How?" she asked.

"The venom heals us. As long as I can find whichever part of me is ripped off, I can reattach it. Although, I admit I've never tested the theory before."

"And it doesn't hurt?"

"It's excruciating."

She drew her hand back instantly, and he had to chuckle. "Not you, Bella. The venom. It's better, but it hurts."

"Yeah." Bella scooted back an inch or two and wrapped her arms around herself. "I remember." She closed her eyes and clenched her fists. "Will you tell me what happened? I was at…" Her eyes flew open. "Fuck. Cynthia—"

Edward held a hand up. "Carlisle already called Emmett and Rosalie." He picked up his shirt and slipped it back on. "I'm almost certain he has no reason to get near the child, but they'll keep an eye out just in case. We—" He stopped talking, the blood had drained from her face, and she surged as though she was going to fall over. Why, oh, why couldn't he read her mind? "Bella? Are you—"

"They're vampires. All of them. Your family," she whispered.

Edward didn't know what to say. Of course, it had been a terrible shock to realize he was a vampire—a bloodthirsty, soulless monster. She knew she was helpless to fight off any single vampire, and now she knew there were five in her own town.

"None of us drink human blood," he said finally.

"No. I guess that would be a conflict of interest considering your dad opens people up for a living." She exhaled in a shaky breath. "Fuck," she muttered. "Dr. Cullen and Esme...It was them. In the forest."

"Yes. When Carlisle couldn't find me, he guessed something had happened. He followed my scent from Forks, and—"

"He did what?"

He studied her a moment, listening to her heart rate. But her coloring was better than it had been a minute before. Remarkably, she was handling all this well. "We have a very well defined sense of smell."

She scoffed. "Of course you do. Because you need one more advantage." She took another breath. "Is that how you found me?" She paled again. "Is that how _he_ found me?"

"No. I...well."

"What?"

He sighed. "Bella, I just need you to know our friendship is real and valuable to me. I never lied except by omission."

She said nothing, her expression cautious as she waited.

"Although I had no idea exactly what you went through until you told me. I was aware you had been taken by Jasper. My family had a run-in with him prior to your disappearance." Edward flexed his hands at his sides. "I didn't know until today why he let you go."

Bella drew her legs up on the couch, clutching them close to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. "He wanted to drive me crazy before he killed me."

"That was what he wanted when he took you. That's not what he wants now." He had to pause. "That's not why he let you go."

She looked so small, and her eyes were so wide that she looked almost child-like. Edward wanted nothing more than to pull her back into his arms. She breathed in through her nose and nodded at him.

It took a great deal of effort to keep the emotion out of his voice. He was so, so angry and ashamed. He should have stopped this before it ever started, before Bella had ever been hurt. "He wants you." He said each word carefully, slowly. "Forever. He's a highly logical son of a bitch. He thinks you're brilliant and brave. He thinks that you'd make a good mate."

Only because he was a vampire, he heard the tiny noise she made at the back of her throat. She closed her eyes tightly, and struggled to keep her breathing under control. "He likes me," she said, her voice thin and reedy. "He wants to...have me."

"This isn't about sex," he said gently, trying to guess at what would be of most concern to her. Not that the whole situation wasn't horrifying. "He truly thinks you'd be a good partner."

"He wants to be my fucking _boyfriend_?"

They were both surprised at her sudden screech. Actually, even Carlisle and Esme were startled. In more ways than one considering Edward hadn't had time to catch them up with the situation.

Bella took a deep breath. "So what? He was going to snatch me again, but differently? Like a god damn do-over? Like instead of keeping me on a fucking chain in the pitch black, in the cold, he was going to wine me and dine me?"

"I think I might owe you an apology," Edward said.

"Only one?"

"No." He scooted an inch closer, aching to hold her again. "But I need to tell you exactly what happened. As I said, I suspected the bastard wasn't done with you. You're very well protected, Bella. When you're in Forks."

She scoffed and rocked slightly. She didn't believe it, he could tell, but she had bigger fish to fry, he guessed. "I left Forks."

Edward nodded. "I found out too late."

"Because you've been following me." Her tone was flat, laced with something dangerous.

Really too perceptive. "I haven't been following you." He grimaced. "In the interest of full honesty, I would have followed you, but I haven't had to. You're at home or you're with me."

Bella looked away. She swallowed several times, but didn't speak.

"It was luck," he continued. "I was at work. I stepped outside to change the chalkboard sign, and I overheard your father telling Officer Marks that you'd gone to Seattle. That he was amazed at you and proud."

"And you came after me."

"I did."

"And he was close."

If Edward was human, he would have shivered. "He was hanging on to the underside of your truck."

She let out a soft cry and pressed knuckle to her mouth. "I...I don't…"

"I needed to get you away from him." Edward paused a moment and hung his head. "Although, I figured out later that he had no intention of taking you. He knew we were guarding you, and so he couldn't get close. He'd actually figured he would depend on you to get him past the perimeter." He looked up at her again. "He wasn't going to touch you today. He plays a long game, Bella. He was going to leave a rose for you. A single rose in a vase."

"That's supposed to comfort me?" She rocked back and forth. "That's… That's fucking creepy. I mean, I knew he was still out there, but…" She shook her head hard. "Christ, I'm going to go out of my mind."

"In his thinking, you would see with time that he was no longer a danger to you." At this point, he had no idea if he was making things worse, but he didn't see that he had any choice but to tell her the whole truth. "He figured you would become conditioned to the idea he could be around you, and you'd still be free. Safe."

"How do you know all this?" she asked, sounding irritated. Before he could answer, though, her head snapped up, and she stared at him. "He called you a mind reader. And he told me before that other vampires have gifts." She looked stung. "Do you—"

"I can't read your mind. Everyone else, yes, but not you."

"Why not me?"

At that, he had to laugh. "Your guess is as good as mine. You're silent, and that's never happened to me."

Bella frowned. "It's too bad you don't know what I'm thinking," she said after a full minute had passed.

"Why?" Edward asked, surprised that she would want him to know.

"Because _I_ have no idea what the hell I'm thinking right now." She wrapped her arms around her legs and ducked her head to rest against her knees. She looked so tired.

"Do you—"

"Give me a minute, please," she said in a small voice. She'd begun to rock in place again.

Edward stilled and waited. Patience was inherent in immortal beings, but as one minute turned into two and two to five, Edward felt remarkably antsy. Bella stared off into the distance without sight, rocking. Thinking, presumably.

Almost ten full minutes had passed before she raised her head and looked at him. "So everything we talked about before, at the diner. All the personal stuff. It was all true, right?"

Edward blinked at her. Well, never let it be said the woman was predictable. She did nothing but shock him. "In the interest of full disclosure? Everything was carefully edited, but the heart of the matter was true."

"So Emmett is your big brother. He teases you. You like to wrestle even though it makes your mom nervous. All that."

"Yes." It killed him that he didn't know where the hell this was going.

"And vampires are the only things that can hurt other vampires."

"Yes."

She stared at him, and he couldn't read the look in her eyes. There was some anger there, yes, but something else. A spark of light. "So if I asked Emmett to smack you upside the head, he probably would?"

His mouth fell open. "I…" He laughed. A small, incredulous laugh. "What?"

"I'd do it myself, but I'd probably break my hand, right?"

He stared.

She tilted her head. "It's a dick move, Edward. I've been obsessing over vampires the whole time you've known me, wondering which bits of the lore are true, and you, a fucking vampire, have been sitting across from me just letting me wonder. Dick move."

He continued to stare. Her glance was furtive. She was still tucked into a ball. She still looked weary and wary. The tremble in her voice told him there was some forced bravado behind her tone, but she was still there. Still upright.

So brave it broke his heart.

"How are you doing this, Bella?"

"Doing what?"

"Aren't you scared of me?"

She looked down and shook her head. "I know I should be. I'm scared of everyone else. I'm scared of everything. I'm scared all the damn time." She wrapped her arms around her shoulders, hunching over a bit as she spoke. "Maybe it's that I need one thing in this whole damn world not to be scared of." She laughed—a wry sound. "And of course, my fucked up brain decided that one thing is you. A blood-sucking vampire." She furrowed her brows and looked over at him. "Do you suck blood?"

He nodded carefully. "Animals."

They lapsed into silence again. A long silence. And Edward couldn't take it.

"Will you tell me what you're thinking?" he asked so softly it was almost a whisper.

"I was thinking… I want…" She pressed her lips into a thin line.

"Anything," he said when she didn't speak again.

She opened her mouth. Closed it. Huffed.

Then, she unwound herself from her tight ball. Edward held himself very still, watching as she scooted close to him. One inch. Two. Six. Until finally they were side by side on the couch, their bodies angled toward each other, knees barely a couple of inches apart.

"Can I touch you?" she asked, focused not on his eyes but on his cheeks.

"You're curious?" he guessed.

She nodded.

"Of course," he said.

Was he supposed to be this eager? He thought he understood what this was to her. As she'd said, she'd been obsessing about vampires, likely thinking of nothing but, since the demon let her go. And while she'd had time to look at Jasper, she had been neither able nor wanting to study him.

Her hands shook as she reached out. She placed them on either side of his face, and Edward wanted to close his eyes. He wanted to revel in the heat.

He didn't. He sat still as a statue and let her gather the answers she was looking for. The ones he'd denied her when he sat across from her, letting her believe he was just as human she was.

She ran the pads of her thumbs over the planes of his face first, tracing the contours. She ran her fingers into his hair. Edward concentrated on watching her face—the curiosity in her eyes, the surprise inherent in the curl of her lip. He was desperate to know what she was thinking, but he was also basking.

"You're so warm," he said out loud because he couldn't help himself anymore.

"You're so cold." Her eyes found his.

"No circulation."

Her hands dropped down to his chest and pressed over his still heart. She looked sad. "No heartbeat."

He shook his head. He hesitated a moment and then brought a hand up to rest on hers over his chest. "I'm sorry," he said.

What he was apologizing for, he wasn't sure. Everything, maybe. He was sorry he was cold and dead. He was sorry she was hurting and afraid. He was sorry he hadn't killed Jasper the moment he set eyes on him—up in the tree where he'd had the upper hand.

And he was sorry that he wasn't someone else, some _thing_ else. That they hadn't met like two regular people.

That he couldn't close the distance between them and kiss her, taste her lips, as he desperately wanted to.

* * *

 **A/N: Posting on the ruuuuunnnnn.**

 **I love you guys. Really.**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Last day of my four day .**

* * *

Bella couldn't sleep.

It had been many days since she'd found out about Edward. Two days since he'd walked her out of his house—his family was nowhere to be seen, as though her truck had appeared by itself in his driveway.

Since then, she'd had a million questions. She texted Edward at first. Random questions. Was the garlic thing true? Could he see himself in a mirror? In pictures? Did he have to be invited into a place? If she threw seeds all over the floor, would he be compelled to pick up each and every one? What about the sun?

Edward: Do you know when you're out on the lake or the river, and the sun hits the water, it sparkles?

Bella: Yes.

Edward: Our skin is faceted. That's what it looks like. It's nothing that could be missed, and so we stay out of sunlight. That's where the myth came from.

Bella: … Is that why you live in Forks?

Edward: Cloud cover.

When her questions got too complex, she called.

"If you eat, why do you still need blood?"

There was a pause on the other end. "I don't eat."

"But you've eaten in front of me."

Another beat. "Just because I've put things in my mouth and swallowed them doesn't mean they're doing anything for my body."

"Then why did you do it?"

"Because I didn't want you to worry about me."

Bella was quiet at that, turning it over. "What happens if you do eat?" she said after a few moments silence.

"You don't want to hear that."

"Edward."

"No, seriously. You don't. I have to yak it back up. It's like a cat with a hairball."

"Ew," Bella said. "Why did you do that?"

"I told you."

Again, Bella turned that information over in her head. "You're worrying about me worrying about you?"

He sighed. "I spend a lot of time worrying about you, if you want to know the truth."

"Yeah." She gave a humorless laugh. "I do too. I thought about that the other day. How self-centered I've become."

"Bella—"

"No, I am. I don't think of anyone but myself. What I'm capable of today. What I can deal with. If there's a stupid, bastard vampire sitting outside my bedroom window."

"You're not self-centered. In fact, you're anything but. Otherwise, you would have let it go when I said I didn't feel like eating."

"I don't think it takes much thought to know someone shouldn't starve themselves."

"I think you would be surprised." He paused a beat. "Bella. Do you know it's two in the morning?"

She closed her eyes. "I was hoping it was closer to three by now."

"Have you slept at all?"

"Since when?" Frustration welled in her, and her throat got tight. "I can't sleep."

"Neither can I."

"Yeah," Bella said wryly. Though he was teasing, trying to add levity to the moment, the thought made her sad. There was no respite without sleep.

Then again, without sleep, there were also no nightmares.

Outside, the wind rustled through the trees. Bella wiped a stray tear from underneath her eyes. She was so tired. Exhausted. She didn't know she could be this worn out.

For a moment, she just sat, her phone pressed against her ear, listening. "Edward?"

"Yes?"

"Where are you right now?"

Silence greeted her. Silence but for the wind in the trees. She sighed.

"Bella, I'm not trying to be a creep."

"I know that."

"I just—"

"You want to keep me safe."

"Yeah."

She tapped her fingers restlessly on her bed. "I do feel safer," she said in a whisper, realizing it was true as she spoke the words. She took a deep breath. "Listen, you maybe want to come in out of the rain?"

He paused. "The rain doesn't bother me, you know. It doesn't affect me. I won't get sick if you leave me out here."

"I know." She pulled her legs up to her chest. " _I_ really want you here. If you want to be up here."

"Of course."

Bella unwound herself from her tight ball. "I'll be right down."

Even though she'd just invited him, she was somehow still surprised when she opened the front door and found him on her stoop. He was soaked and somehow…

He was beautiful. Bella wasn't quite sure when she'd noticed that. It wasn't a revelation. She knew it. He was soaked, and anyone else would have been bedraggled and miserable, but not him.

Bella stepped back. "Come in," she whispered.

As he stepped inside, she closed the door and leaned up against it, rubbing her eyes. He hadn't said it outright, but Edward had hinted that his unnatural beauty was yet another vampiric quality. And why it was messing with her head now she didn't know. His otherworldly good looks hadn't bothered her before; not in any sense of the word.

But she was exhausted. She was exhausted and out of her head, and she had been thinking of nothing but vampires for days. Actual vampires. Reality, not her imagined nightmares.

And Edward. Edward had been her whole world for days, of course she was out of sorts about it.

"Bella?"

His voice was so close it sent a chill down her spine. She opened her eyes, and he was there. Not a foot away from her, his eyes concerned, his hand hovering as though he was unsure if he could touch her.

"If you've changed your mind, I can leave," he said. "It's okay. I understand."

Bella searched his eyes, and she wondered why her heartbeat sped. She saw him cock his head ever so slightly and thought he heard it too. He looked more troubled. He thought he was scaring her.

For a moment, Bella considered that. Was she scared? She was, but not of him.

"I feel…safe with you." The word sounded foreign in her mouth. Safe. When was the last time she'd felt safe? She'd almost forgotten.

His lips turned up at the corners, and he ducked his head.

"Are you going to tell me I shouldn't?" she asked.

He looked at her from under his eyelashes. "I don't want to tell you that."

"But?"

He reached out and slowly, carefully, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm still a vampire."

For some reason, Bella wanted to smile. She knew what he was saying. He'd been tiptoeing around it for days. She smelled good. Better, he said, than most. Which meant she smelled good to him. Which meant that there was some part of him that wanted the same thing Jasper wanted—her blood, her life.

That was why she felt safe with him. Because he was honest, and because he didn't want to want her that way.

He was beautiful. Not his face, though again, that was stunning, but his heart. His soul. _Him._

"I trust you," Bella said. Then, she let herself smile. A little. "Now, come on. You're going to catch your death of cold."

He chuckled, the sound low and soft.

At her insistence, he went into the bathroom, took off his clothes and slipped into the over-sized, fluffy robe she offered him. Even as she put his clothes in the dryer, she knew she was being ridiculous, but it kept her hands busy.

She was nervous, she realized. Not the awful kind of nervous where she was sure something horrible was about to happen.

Bella led them up the stairs, wondering again what the hell she was doing. This was what she'd missed, she realized with a pang. Sneaking a boy into the house, into her room, while her father slept down the hall. There was a certain thrill to it—an emotion that left Bella a little befuddled and flushed at the same time.

She was so, so tired, and it was driving her out of her mind. That was the only explanation.

Edward went automatically to the rocking chair in the corner. Bella hesitated in the doorway.

"I can still leave," he said, his voice soft in the room, gentle as the breeze.

Bella wrung her hands, but she offered him a small smile. "I couldn't send you out in that robe. Your brother would beat you up."

"I thought that was what you wanted," he teased.

Bella took a few steps closer. "I forgive you, you know." She sat gingerly on the bed and closed her eyes so she wouldn't have to look at him.

"You're uncomfortable," he said.

"I'm not." Bella huffed. "I keep waiting for it, but it doesn't come." She scooted back on the bed, her back against the headboard. "Do you think… Will you come here?"

She could feel his eyes on her, watching her. She knew he could hear her heartbeat. "To talk. I just want to talk."

This was the thing about nighttime. Anything was possible. More often than not, for her, that meant imagining the nightmares out there; the monsters in the dark and what could be lurking, lying in wait.

Right now, the endless possibilities of night made Bella want to believe she could have touch again. That tiny bit of affection Edward had given her—his tender embrace—had awakened a need in her she hadn't been able to come to terms with.

For five years, her headspace had been a mantra of _Don't touch me, don't touch me_ , _don't fucking touch me._ Why now, when she'd been conquered and maimed again, body and soul, could she trust _anyone_? And he wasn't anyone. He was a monster. It made no sense, and yet…

The bed dipped, and Bella let out a soft breath. She was trembling—fine tremors that brought goosebumps to her flesh. She dared to look over only when he was settled, like her, with his back against the headboard. "What do you want to talk about?"

She still had so many questions, so it wasn't hard to answer. She just picked one of the millions still zinging around her head, keeping her awake.

"Is it hard to walk slow? Or pick up things when you can break them so easily?"

"It's not a huge struggle. Mostly, it's easy to get a sense of how much strength I can use before I break something." He unfolded his arms from across his chest and, to Bella's surprise, he drew a finger along her arm. "Your skin, for instance, is like rose petals over a very thin piece of glass. Fragile."

Bella watched his finger as it traced the crook of her elbow. When he got to her fingers, she widened them, and took his hand in hers. She let their joined hands drop to the bed between them where she could touch—explore his fingers with hers. "You think my skin feels like rose petals?"

"Your skin is very soft to me. And warm. It's pleasant—the warmth." He flipped his hand so she could draw her fingers across his palm. "What does my skin feel like to you?"

"Cold." They both laughed. "But not… It's not a horrible cold. Not the kind of cold that makes me wish it was summer. Just...cool." She hesitated a beat, but then she lifted her hand to cup his cheek. "Your skin is soft too," she said. "Which is weird, because it's also hard. It's like...stone. Smooth marble with a finish like velvet."

For all that his skin was so cold, the air between them was warm. It was warm and static. Electricity raced up and down her spine. His eyes dropped down to her lips and back up again. Bella's breath caught.

"Edward?" she said, dropping her hand back to his on the bed.

"Hmm?" He was looking down, his eyes having followed her hand.

Bella breathed in through her nose and out. "He… Can he really sense emotions?"

Edward's head snapped back up, and his expression was concerned as he looked at her. "Yes."

As much as she'd hated to bring the bastard into their conversation, she had to know. For days, as she'd tried to process the reality of her world and all the information Edward had given her, one question kept screaming in her mind.

Bella raised her eyes to his. "He said you were in love with me."

He went absolutely still, his eyes frozen in shock. It held for one, two, three of the longest seconds of Bella's life before the shock faded to guilt. He ducked his head and pulled his hand away. "That… Please don't worry about that, Bella. That's my own foolishness, and my own problem. I—"

His words cut off as she moved in a lurch. It wasn't graceful, but despite her nerves and the tremor that went bone deep, she managed to straddle him without hurting herself. His hands came up, and he grasped her firmly by the waist, steadying her. They locked eyes.

After a long moment, Bella let out a shaky breath. He was still—absolutely still. Frozen. And that was good. Bella thought she needed him not to move for a minute.

Eons passed before she was steady enough to move her hands from where they were braced against his chest. She ran her fingers up along his collarbone and then back behind his neck. She ran her fingers into his hair—still damp from being out in the rain. She studied each of his features intently. Regal nose. High cheekbones. Golden eyes that darkened as she touched him. Full lips.

He never moved. Not an inch. Not to breathe. Nothing but his eyes.

Bella pressed her thumb over the center of his parted lips and waited. The fear she was expecting didn't come. The only thing she felt was want. She wanted this. She wanted to believe, for this one impossible moment in time, that she could have this small thing.

Leaning in, Bella brushed her lips against his, testing. She waited for him to push her away. He didn't, but he still hadn't moved.

Bella kissed him firmly then. Her lips molded around his. How strange. And ironic. Ironic because what she'd wanted was to believe she could be normal; that she could have something as normal as a kiss.

This was no normal kiss. Not when she couldn't feel a heartbeat beneath her hand as she rested it on Edward's chest. It was like kissing a statue.

Just as she was about to pull back, he whimpered. The sound vibrated against her mouth. His hands squeezed her just perceptibly tighter, and his lips began to move under hers. Bella cupped his face in her hands.

Still not a normal kiss, but oh, holy hell.

She scooted closer so her chest was against his, and wrapped her arms around his neck. His hands moved in slow circles over her back, strong and firm. She liked it. She really, really liked it.

Edward sat up straighter, his hands bracing her as they kissed from every angle. They were innocent as far as kisses went. Chaste and sweet but good. So good.

Bella pulled away only when she had to breathe. She was dizzy. She would have fallen over if he wasn't holding her. Tightening her arms around his neck, she ducked her head to hide against his shoulder, her cheek on her fluffy robe.

Her life was weird. Really, really weird.

But for the moment, it was also good. Really, really good.

Edward shifted beneath her. Moving carefully, he lay down, keeping her in his arms as he did. When they settled, she was draped comfortably over him, cradled with her head still on his fluff-covered shoulder.

Bella realized then that her limbs were made of lead. She had used every last drop of her energy, and she had nothing left. Her eyelids were heavy. But best of all, for that moment, she didn't fear nightmares. Her mind was quiet. She felt protected and warm—which was funny given that his body was cold. She was beginning to feel the cold even through her clothes and the fluff of her robe.

As though he could actually read her mind, Edward grabbed for the comforter. He brought it over them, tucking it around her. He ran gentle fingers through her hair.

"Bella?" he whispered just as she was beginning to slip into blissful unconsciousness.

"Hmm?" She wouldn't have believed that sleeping on a statue could be so comfortable. She was very comfortable. And tired. And content. So content. It wasn't going to last, but it was great for the moment.

"Have you ever kissed someone before?"

She sighed. "Only you."

And then she fell asleep.

* * *

 **A/N: WELP.**

 **How was that?**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Here we are again because these kids wouldn't stfu.**

* * *

Bella had never been predictable, but this? Edward hadn't dared to let himself imagine this.

It was a miracle she didn't hate him. She had been tortured by a vampire, had witnessed first hand the monster at his most monstrous. Then, when Edward had befriended her, whatever his noble intentions, he'd deceived her. She would have been terrified to know what he was when they met, and rightfully so. She would have put a world of distance between herself and the vampire-ridden state of Washington.

Even if she didn't hate him, there was no way, no reason, she should trust him. He and the bastard were cut from the same cloth, both of them craving her blood, her life. There was no getting around the fact she was traumatized. To be in the same room with someone capable of doing the same?

One miracle was more than anyone could expect and far more than he deserved. He'd been granted two miracles. So no, when Bella talked about his love for her and scrambled onto his lap, the weakest baby could have knocked him over with a feather. For the first time in his second life, Edward's mind went completely blank.

And then, when she started touching him, when she licked her lips and looked at his, when he had the oddest thought that she wanted to kiss him, his mind had gone into overdrive. She couldn't want this. There was no way. And she was exhausted. Beyond exhausted; she'd slurred her words a few times. It couldn't be right to…

He started kissing her back when he realized if he didn't, she would pull away. And dear god, he'd never wanted anything more than he wanted to keep kissing her.

She'd been asleep, draped over his chest, for three hours now. Another miracle. Was anyone more vulnerable than when they were asleep?

Was he allowed to stare now? Regardless, he did. He scooted, adjusting both of them so he could see her face—every line, every pore. He took in the shape of her, and spent an obscene amount of time admiring the plump jut of her lower lip. He let his fingertips dance along her hair, feeling the softness of it on his skin without disturbing her.

Bella shivered in his arms. Edward's lips quirked in a wry smile. Of course. A fitting reminder that anything he could have with her was fleeting. Her warmth was heaven for him, but his coldness wasn't something her body could tolerate for long.

It was better. Charlie Swan was beginning to come out of his dreams. He'd be awake in another few minutes. Fifteen at most, and Edward had a few things to do before the man woke.

He rolled very carefully onto his side, moving in smooth increments so Bella wouldn't jostle awake. As he slipped out from under the blankets, he tucked them more securely around her, making up for the cold that had seeped through his fluffy bathrobe.

Speaking of fluffy bathrobes, Edward darted down the stairs and retrieved his clothes from the dryer. He changed, and went back upstairs, settling himself in Bella's rocking chair as he listened to Charlie Swan getting up and ready for work.

Charlie, like his daughter, was another conundrum. Except in periods of great stress—as when he was particularly angry or scared for his daughter—Edward could only hear the tenor of his thoughts. As he went about his business, the man's thoughts conveyed a state of heightened awareness Edward had come to associate with his worrying about Bella.

When he stepped out of his room, he went not toward the stairs but to Bella's door. Edward acted fast, darting into the closet and pulling the door closed just as Charlie opened the door to the room. Charlie registered pleased surprise when he realized Bella was fast asleep.

Just as Charlie had taken a step back, Bella sighed. "Edward," she murmured clearly, and both Charlie and Edward froze.

Bella's breaths were even. She was still asleep. Dreaming. Dreaming of him?

Charlie huffed, the tone of his thoughts both disgruntled and surprised. He waited. Edward did too. Bella didn't speak again. Charlie left, his thoughts ringing with resolution. Edward figured he was going to find an excuse to drop into the bookstore today. Well, he would be disappointed because Edward had every intention to call in sick to work.

Bella slept. She slept for eight hours, nine, ten. Her father called twice before he went home to check on her. Edward wondered how long it had been since she'd slept more than a fitful few hours at a time.

As she slept, she murmured Edward's name four times.

Finally, just after Charlie left, close to one in the afternoon, Bella started to wake.

Edward tried to remember what it felt like to wake up when he'd had too much sleep. Disorienting. He wondered if he should be there. Would she remember what had happened last night?

Bella blinked and rolled onto her back, stretching as her eyes darted around the room. She spotted him. She blinked again. Then, she rolled onto her side with a sleepy smile.

"Do you pay taxes?" she asked.

Now it was Edward's turn to blink. "What?"

She yawned, tucking her hands beneath her cheek. "How can your family have social security numbers? You I'd buy. You're...what? Sixty?"

Edward's cheek twitched. "Sixty-six."

He watched her face carefully, but she didn't seem disturbed by the fact. She just yawned again. "But you still have to be lying, right? I know that the bookstore is privately owned, but no way even old Mr. Green missed a 1950 birthdate."

Edward started laughing. He put a hand over his eyes, shaking his head. "You're incredible, you know that?"

"Why?"

"Why isn't this freaking you out?"

Bella scoffed and sat up, leaning against the headboard. "I don't know. I guess it should. But there's only one thing I know right now."

"What's that?"

She ducked her head, and her cheeks flushed. She was blushing. Why? "I had a really, really great dream, and I woke up happy for the first time in five years."

If Edward's heart worked, it would have been pounding in his chest. He stood and went to her bed. He sat down, perching on the edge. With two fingers, he gently tilted her chin up. "What was your dream?" he asked, holding her eyes with his.

She reached out—her hand trembled ever so slightly—and played with the edge of his shirt. "There's this boy I really like." She wrinkled her nose. "Well, maybe boy isn't the right word for it."

He smirked and moved his hand to trace the line of her chin. "No. Boy doesn't quite cover it."

"So, there's this man I really like."

Edward laughed. Man, she said.

She smiled—a shy, pretty smile. "And I dreamed I kissed him last night," she whispered.

Her first kiss. It was a tragedy in so many ways. The first time she'd been able to give any part of her body of her own volition. And she'd chosen him.

He wasn't going to get over that in the next century or twelve.

Edward brushed her hair back. "So, if he wanted to kiss you right now?"

Her cheeks flushed bright, her eyes went hectic, and her lips quirked up. "Maybe he should wait until I brush my teeth?"

He rolled his eyes and pressed his lips to hers. They weren't going for open mouthed kisses after all.

The night before, she'd explored his face with her fingers. He'd been obsessed with the idea since then. He liked her lines; he'd decided that awhile back. Her ears were big in proportion to her head. He liked that, and he didn't know why. He liked the feel of her lobes and the way she shivered, making a wonderful little noise at the back of her throat. Then, when he drew his fingers down her neck, she giggled and pulled away.

"That tickles." She cocked her head. "Are you ticklish? Is any vampire?"

He sighed. "No. No nerves. You have a lot of questions."

"You're an entire different species. You're aware of that, right?"

"I still put on my pants one leg at a time."

She studied him a moment. "I bet you could jump into them if you wanted to. With both legs. Like an astronaut."

"Well, I hadn't ever tried it, but now that you mention it, I think I could."

She grinned. It was such a beautiful sight that he grinned back.

Tilting her head, Bella drew a finger up his arm. "You know what I like about this? Well. One of the things?"

"What's that?"

"For months now, all I could think about was the horror of it. Of your...kind, I guess. But it's not all horrible. It's interesting, actually." She looked up at him again. "And you never did answer me about the taxes."

"Are you so concerned that vampires aren't doing their civic duty?" He quirked an eyebrow.

"Well, no. You don't need many of our services, do you?"

"Not many. But we do pay taxes. We move a lot—my family. We've gotten good at what paperwork needs to be generated."

"You're admitting to tax fraud? Dangerous game, Cullen. My dad's a cop, you know."

He scoffed. "Bella, tax fraud is the most tame crime we've committed, and it benefits society anyway."

"What other crimes?" she asked sounding scandalized.

He held up a hand and began ticking off on his fingers. "Identity fraud. Tax evasion. Money laundering—"

"Money laundering?"

"Everytime we go on to a new place, we also have to move large sums of money with no explanation."

"Oh, what a problem to have."

Edward shrugged unapologetically. "It starts to pile up."

"What's above first world problems?"

"Hush, you. I'm confessing." He continued ticking off on his fingers. "Insider trading—"

"How?"

"Well, I'm not sure what you'd call it, but that's likely what I'd be sent up for. No other explanation. I'm not technically an insider of any publically traded company, but I've gleaned information from people's minds. Information that guided my stock market decisions."

Bella mouthed the word, "Wow," soundlessly.

"And that's just the tip of the iceberg," Edward said. "Suffice it to say, being a vampire makes you quite the criminal."

"And here I thought it only made you a murderer."

Edward grimaced, but she was smiling, teasing. He opened his mouth-almost confessed. He was a murderer. Did she realize that? He should tell her.

"You're a bad influence," she said, grinning.

He would tell her. But not today. Not when she was happy.

Instead, he smiled. "Well, yes. The quintessential bad boy in the flesh. So to speak." He leaned in so their faces were close together again. She sucked in a breath as he brushed her cheek with the tip of his nose. "Is that why you like me, Bella?" he asked, his voice low and husky. "You like a little bit of a bad boy?"

There was that blush again. She opened her mouth, closed it, huffed, and then turned her head to catch his lips.

This kiss didn't last nearly long enough. Bella groaned, turning her head forward, away from his mouth. "I have to go be human for a minute before I wet the bed." She eyed him. "You don't pee?"

He shook his head.

"Lucky you." She rolled away from him and headed for the bathroom.

"Lucky me," he repeated to himself when he was alone in the room.

Edward was a natural pessimist. He had a lot of questions about what the hell they were doing and how it was going to end. But this time, he was on Bella's side. Today, right now, she was happy. More than that, he was happy—buoyant in a way he'd never experienced in either of his lives.

It couldn't last. That was a given. There was still the demon to face. Neither of them could rest until he was dealt with one way or another. But beyond that, there was everything else. He was a vampire, and she was a human. He was immortal, and she was destined to die. For heaven's sakes, his being near her was endangering her life. Even now, he was fighting his thirst; always fighting on some level, like an alcoholic at an open-bar party.

What the hell business did he have kissing her? What the hell did he think he was doing?

For the moment, though, his desire to kiss her was much stronger than the urge to kill her. Much, much stronger. In fact, the urge to do much more than kiss her…

No. It was a bad idea to entertain that thought.

Twenty-five minutes after she'd disappeared, Bella reemerged showered and dressed with her hair up in a towel. Some of the uncertainty had returned to her eyes as she stood across the room, her arms folded over her chest. Edward had stretched out on her bed, his hands behind his head in a casual pose. He wondered if he'd been wrong in taking such a liberty.

He thought about getting up, but waited instead, watching as she rocked onto the balls of her feet. Taking a chance, he held his hand out. Bella ducked her head but shuffled forward. She took his hand, tangling their fingers, and sat on the edge of the bed.

For minutes they sat in silence. Bella tilted her head, letting the towel fall away. She busied herself with the task of drying her hair, turned halfway away from him.

"What are you thinking?" he asked, voice soft as he twirled a lock of wet hair around his finger.

She didn't answer right away. "I was thinking that you were a young adult at the height of all the free love, hippie thing."

Edward took a few moments to parse this. "Bella. Are you trying to ask about my experience? With women, I mean?"

She shifted, bending one knee up on the bed while her other leg dangled off the edge. "It's none of my business. It's just that I feel foolish."

He furrowed his brow. "Why?"

"Because I have this voice in my head that's jumping up and down like a teenager because I kissed and slept with a boy." She was attempting levity, but it wasn't working. She swallowed hard. "But for you it must be kind of pathetic, isn't it? Kid stuff."

Edward sat up and scooted closer to her. She was staring down at her lap, her hair falling in a curtain between them. "It's said that people never change, but that's a bunch of bologna if I ever heard it." He spoke evenly, threading his fingers through her hair and untangling knots as he did. "People change all the time. Your experiences shape you. You grow. Hell, your brain continues to develop and change physically into your thirties.

"This isn't the case for vampires. I'm frozen at the person I was when I was twenty-four. My values, my prejudices, my attitude. None of it has changed since the day I died." He cupped her cheek, turning her head to look at him. "Not until you."

Bella stared back at him with fathomless eyes. Vulnerability, he reflected, was a hell of a thing. It was strange for him to be vulnerable in front of her, and yet, how could he not be when she'd been so brave for him? He kissed the tip of her nose with a butterfly's pressure. "I wonder if you understand what it means that I love you. It's a different thing for vampires. Even the greatest human love can fade, cool. Or, if the heart is broken, with time, it can heal.

"That's not how it works for us." Edward took her hands and brought them up to his lips, holding her gaze as he kissed her knuckles. "I will love you for the rest of my existence, Isabella Swan. When the sun consumes this planet, and me with it, I will still feel for you that day the way I do now. So no. A kiss from you isn't kid stuff by any stretch of the imagination. There's no comparing what I had before to this. I've never known anything like this."

"Whoa," Bella said, the word coming out like a breath. Her heart was pattering again. She shifted so she was facing him, kneeling on the bed. She balanced herself with her hands on his shoulders, her eyes sad but tender. "I don't know how I feel. This is confusing for a lot of reasons." The last words shook as she spoke. "But I know I don't feel bad. I know I trust you." She bit her bottom lip, studying him for the space of a few heartbeats. "And I know I want to do this."

She kissed him. Edward closed his eyes, tilting his head up into her kisses. He put his hand to her waist, enjoying the feel of her body beneath his palms.

When she was breathless, Bella tilted her forehead against his. "I know we need to talk. I need to talk to your family. And we need to figure things out about…" She shook her head. "But if I wanted to do this." She kissed him again sweetly. "Just this right now. Is that okay?"

Edward wrapped his arm around her and moved carefully, keeping her in the circle of his arms as he laid down so they were face to face, hands resting lightly on each other's side. "Of course," he whispered. He drew his fingertips up her side and kissed her. And kissed her. And kissed her.

* * *

 **A/N: Little bit of a respite, non?**

 **I'd like to thank Julie, MoH, Mina, Songster, and Packeh for making my docs fantastic.**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: So… these kids weren't done talking, apparently. Mofos forever doing whatever they want instead of what I want them to do.**

* * *

For the second day in a row, Bella woke up confused but content, having slept through the whole night. She didn't open her eyes right away. She was wrapped up in a cocoon of blankets, pressed against Edward's side—he was so solid—with her head ducked against his arm. If he was human, she would have overheated with her face pressed against his t-shirt like that. As he wasn't, she was comfortable.

What a strange day yesterday had been. The strangest day in her already strange life. She and Edward had touched and made out for hours without speaking—except for her occasional, crazy question. His touch was so gentle, and he never tried to push. He was a gentleman.

A gentleman vampire. Weird.

The day was weird not only because she spent so much of it making out with a man who was rock hard—all over—and cold to the touch, but because for a woman with her history, any crush was complicated.

Every second of every day of the last five years, Bella had carried the awareness that she could be bested, beaten, and torn apart from the soul on outward. For the last few months, she'd carried the awareness that there were things that absolutely no one could combat; superhuman monsters who, like a meteor crashing to Earth, were beyond her capability to fight under any circumstance. And two nights ago, she had let one of those beings into her bed.

And maybe it was the fact she had nothing to lose that allowed her to concentrate on something other than that constant awareness. In the space of a heartbeat, Edward could kill her in any one of a thousand ways. She was powerless. Helpless. No amount of anxiety could prepare her or save her. There was literally not a single thing she could do about it, so why not give in to that other part of her? The part that wanted his arms around her; wanted his lips to hers; wanted his voice tickling her ear, making her shiver.

It felt good, and Bella hadn't felt good in a long, long time.

To add to the surreality that was her life, she felt like she was seventeen all over again. She'd never had the chance to develop a crush—to blush and duck her head and wonder if her heart was going to beat out of her chest every time he touched her tenderly. She'd sat through dinner with her father the night before, the whole time trying to stop herself from bouncing out of her seat with her eagerness to get back to her room where Edward waited.

So, yeah. Her life was weird. There was a monster in her bed, and for the second night in a row, she'd gotten enough sleep that she didn't feel like death warmed over when she woke.

Her musing tapered off as Edward raised a hand to stroke down her back. The jig was up. He knew she was awake. Of course. Superhuman bastard with his ability to hear heartbeats. She stayed silent a few minutes more, soaking in his gentle touch and the way it sent chills down her spine that had nothing to do with his temperature.

Finally, though, Bella knew she had to face the music, face the day. She rolled onto her back and blinked up at him. It was no wonder vampire myths so often included a glamour amongst the pile of vampiric talents. Edward's face stunned her breathless.

Then again, he'd had the same face when they met. He'd only gotten more attractive the longer she knew him. Although, she hadn't been in the habit of looking anyone in the eyes since she'd been kidnapped by the demon. She hadn't really _looked_ at Edward until after she knew he was a vampire.

The asshole's face had stunned her. But it wasn't any kind of attraction. No. His perfect face with his glowing, crimson eyes only made him look more like a demon straight from a hell she'd never imagined before. Who wouldn't be stunned by that kind of evil?

Edward wasn't evil though. She reached her hand up, trailing a finger along the line of his face. His golden eyes were soft—anything but demonic. She would have likened him to an angel instead—something heavenly and good.

"Isn't it boring to you to lay here for hours while someone sleeps?" she asked. She knew how time seemed to stand still when the world was too quiet, too dark, and she couldn't sleep. It was torture.

He smiled, brushing his hand along her side. "What makes you think I was here the whole night?"

Her brow furrowed and, ridiculously, she felt a pang of hurt. "You left?"

He studied her a moment, tracing the line of her pouting lips. "Stillness isn't a problem for a vampire, which I've always thought was ironic. We can run so fast, and I love that part. The running. I could be on the other side of the country before nightfall. It's exhilarating."

His fingers traced her hairline, smoothing her hair back. "But if you asked me, I could stand in that corner right there." He pointed over at the darkest corner of her room. "I could stand there for years, and no one would be able to tell me apart from a statue. Stillness isn't a problem. Boredom isn't a problem."

Bella bit her lip, considering him. "You're kind of intense, you know that?"

"Does it bother you?"

"Not really. Everything I feel comes in extremes. If this whole thing"—she gestured between them—"wasn't intense, I don't think I'd even notice it existed."

His lips turned down ever so slightly, but rather than speak to this, he changed the subject. "And it doesn't bother you that I'm not asleep when you are?"

A smirk played at the corner of her mouth. "You mean don't I think you're a gigantic creeper for watching me while I sleep?"

He offered a sheepish smile, but otherwise stayed silent.

"I guess it should bother me," she mused. "It sounds so wrong." She laughed, the sound wry. "But my world isn't normal, is it? We aren't playing by the same rules. A human man would watch me like that because he was a pervert."

Her throat got tight. Old habit sent a shiver of revulsion down her spine. "I get to think about that a lot," she said, bitterness creeping into her voice. "When a man—any man—looked at me, I wondered if he was thinking about all the things he would do to me if he got the chance."

His hand at her waist tightened, but he didn't move otherwise. Bella drew in a breath. His gentle touch grounded her, and kept the old feeling of filth from overwhelming her. "You never felt that way to me," Bella said, and she had to laugh. "I guess I know now you never felt normal. So, I guess it makes sense that I don't feel like you've got one hand on your cock when you watch me at night."

"Bella," he said, horrified.

She giggled. She didn't think she'd ever get used to the idea she could startle him. He looked so scandalized. When she calmed, she studied him. "Do you think about... _that_ at all?"

He looked back, his expression just as careful. "Truth?"

"Preferably."

"My mind is capable of many realms of thought at once," he said. "That's probably why it's so easy to stay still. That and the perfect recall, which goes hand in hand with my limitless mind. So, yes, of course I think about it.

"Though, as with most everything else, sex is different for vampires. We have no biological instinct toward sex, and no sense of urgency to seize the day as humans do. It's purely recreational, though intense, depending on the relationship of the vampires in question."

He rolled onto his back, his arm behind his head. "We are, as I said before, frozen as the people we were in life. Sex just takes on a different context, like everything else. Carlisle and Esme are interesting in that regard. I think Carlisle is asexual. Which is to say, I think he doesn't experience sexual attraction."

"You think?"

Edward smiled. "Well, asexuality isn't always accepted as a valid sexuality in this day and age. In his time, the 1600's, it was unheard of. It takes on a different context in his head. He was thirty-one when he was turned. That was practically ancient in those days, and he hadn't taken a wife. He'll say it was because he never had enough money to provide for a family, but I think that was a convenient excuse for what he didn't feel."

He shrugged. "In any event; it makes him all the more suited for Esme. She was married a few years before the Civil War to a much older man. She didn't marry for love. She never knew anything of sex except that it was her duty." He clenched his jaw. "And her husband made it an unpleasant one more often than not."

"He hurt her?" Bella asked, her stomach churning.

"He killed her, and their two children. Two girls."

Bella gasped. "That's horrible."

"It is."

Bella pressed her lips together, too curious not to ask. "But if she died, how did she become a vampire? If you get resurrected from the dead, doesn't that make you a zombie?"

Despite the somber subject, Edward laughed. "Zombie vampires. Now there's a nightmare scenario." He shook his head. "No. You do have to be somewhat alive for the change to take place. Esme had a pulse. A very faint, slow pulse that Carlisle only heard because he's a vampire.

"He'd known her, you see. He'd set her leg when she was fifteen or sixteen. He remembered that she was a bright presence, a happy child with a keen mind and a vivacious personality. After centuries of loneliness, he changed her on a whim. He had the romantic notion that he could bring her some happiness after all the misery she'd clearly suffered."

Bella rolled onto her side, looking down on him. "Did he?"

Edward smiled and reached up run the back of a single knuckle down her cheek. "He did."

When he looked at her, something silent and yet poignant passed between them. The air was static again, heavy with meaning. There were things happening here she wasn't ready to think about.

"And the others?" she asked, her voice trembling the slightest bit. She cleared her throat. "How did they get turned?"

His knuckle continued to slide along the lines of her face, under her chin, and down her neck. "Very long story short? Esme and Carlisle saved Rosalie, I think, because Esme never quite forgave herself for not being able to save her daughters." Edward held her eyes briefly, and Bella knew from his look that she didn't want to know what Rosalie had been saved from. "Rosalie found Emmett on death's door from a bear attack, and begged Carlisle for help."

"And you?" Bella asked when he didn't speak immediately.

His cheek twitched. "In her human life, Esme's only happiness was being a mother. The first child she bore was a boy, but he only lived a few days. And for all I was a grown man when I died, I was very much my mother's son."

Edward sighed, his expression far off as he remembered. "I was very sick when the draft came. Something I thought at the time was the gravest injustice, because I wanted to fight. My mother—my human mother—and Dr. Carlisle Cullen nursed me through that illness. Ironically, I think it was because she was in the hospital with me so much that my mother was exposed to a litany of illnesses. Just as I was getting well, pneumonia took her. Quickly."

"I'm sorry," Bella said.

"Yes, well. Suffice it to say, I didn't handle my mother's death very well. My human father and I became estranged. I drank a lot. I didn't know it but Carlisle, used to taking care of me at that point, often followed me."

"Oh, so that's a learned trait."

He chuckled but then his expression grew wry. Shamed. "So he was there when I crashed my car."

"Oh, Edward."

"I always did like to go fast."

"So Carlisle took you home to Esme."

Edward nodded. "He did."

Bella was quiet for a long time, studying his face, the perfect smoothness of his skin. "Do you regret it? Or do you resent him?"

"For turning me into a monster?" He chuffed. "Sometimes." He looked at her. "Other times, I'm glad I'm still here, in whatever form that may be."

Despite the skip in her heartbeat and the warmth that spread through her at his tender expression, Bella frowned. "I don't think you're a monster. Well, you're a supernatural being. But you're not a monster in _that_ sense of the word."

His eyes, then, held unfathomable sadness and guilt as he looked at her. "I've killed people before, Bella," he said very softly.

Though she sucked in a breath, the admission didn't surprise Bella. He was a vampire. There was no getting around that. She knew he and his family drank animals instead of humans, but she also knew it was against their very nature to do so. She swallowed hard. "My mother's best friend went to the dentist. They gassed her. She never woke up."

Edward furrowed his brow.

"Plus, I'd imagine your dad could tell you that when a doctor makes a mistake, someone dies, and everyone makes mistakes."

He raised an eyebrow.

She looked back at him. "Killing someone doesn't automatically make you a monster."

His answering expression was wry. "The doctor and the dentist didn't eat their patients, Bella."

"Do you think the bear that attacked Emmett was a monster for eating him?"

"That's a bad example. Rosalie annihilated that bear."

"Not the point."

He pursed his lips, staring up at her with amusement. Bella grinned back, but her smile fell quickly. She ducked her head. "If he'd just killed me, I would have forgiven him," she said, looking away.

Edward stroked his hand up and down her back, soothing. Bella closed her eyes tightly, her heart racing.

This had all been a nice respite. She knew if she wanted to cuddle up against Edward and forget the world, he would have complied. She could have let her denial stretch on for days at least. She was happy in this little bubble space with him.

But no.

Bella opened her eyes and looked at him. "Will you take me to meet your family?"

It was time to get down to business.

* * *

 **A/N: Okay, kids. Time to stop making out and get down to business. Jeez.**

 **Welp! In case you haven't heard, my newest book, Spaces Between Notes, is coming out on Thursday. To celebrate, my other three books are available for free through Friday.**

 **Here's a synopsis:**

 **Nikolai Amorosa is one of those men's men. You know the type—allergic to feelings, couldn't have a heartfelt discussion if he tried, which he never did. Then, he lost his voice, and any chance of communication went out the window.**

 **Unable to speak or otherwise interact with anyone, Niko's anger was off the charts. It could've been worse; he could've been in jail. Instead, he found himself doing construction on Carys Harper's house. Carys talked—a lot—both with her voice and her hands. She was also at the beck and call of her deaf little brother, Benny, which drove Niko nine kinds of crazy. Not that he would've said anything, even if he could.**

 **Something else that drove him crazy? Carys was stubborn. She wouldn't let him wallow. More than that, she seemed to hear all the things he couldn't say. She understood him like she understood music. She heard what existed in the spaces between notes. She knew that sometimes silence screams the loudest.**

 **Spaces Between Notes is currently available for pre-order for $2.99. You can find all my original work on Amazon under my name, Kristina M. Sanchez.**


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: Monday is being too Mondayish...make it stop. *grumpy Kris***

* * *

"She wants to talk to all of you."

There was silence on the other end of the phone. "Does she?" Carlisle said, his voice wondering. "She wants to be in the same room as five vampires."

Edward couldn't help the smile that quirked at his lips. "She trusts you. Well." His smile broadened ever so slightly. "She trusts me, which is remarkable. She has no reason to trust me."

"Obviously, she's a good judge of character."

Again, Edward smiled, though this one more fond. Carlisle had a father's bias to be certain. "I think she's just braver than she gives herself credit for."

"Both are true. When will you be over?"

"Pretty quickly, I think. She's taking a shower, but she was adamant about coming over without delay."

"That would be fine. We all went hunting last night," he said nonchalantly, and Edward smiled again. Of course he could trust Carlisle to know what he worried about. It was somewhat ridiculous—their family were all around people all the time—but he didn't want anything to go wrong.

"I went hunting last night too." After Bella was deeply asleep. "Thank you, Carlisle."

He hung up the phone and listened to the sound of her moving under the water. He tilted his head back, and for a few moments, he let himself imagine. The soap between her hands. Her fingers sliding over her skin.

At the last moment, he stopped himself from banging his head against the wall hard enough to leave a dent in it. With some control, he merely tapped his head against the wall. Bella's shelves shook.

Whether or not it was a biological imperative, Edward had a mighty urge to express what he felt for Bella in a physical way. It was manageable—as he'd told Bella, not a biological imperative, and therefore his most intense urges didn't rule him.

Still, he had desires. And his damnable, limitless mind had no trouble conjuring all kinds of scenarios. Oh, the things he would do if he could.

The shower turned off, and Edward forced his thoughts to get in line. A pipe dream for far, far too many reasons. Oh, to be normal.

But then, were he a normal man, he would be in his sixties, and utterly unable to protect her. Sixty-six. A grandfather perhaps. A wife growing old by his side. Or, he supposed more likely, divorced, but still with a child or two.

Where would Bella be?

"Hey?" Bella's voice was soft and shy again as she reappeared in the doorway. He rolled his head toward her and smiled. She smiled back. "What does one wear to meet the parents of her vampire beau?" She was wearing a robe right that moment, her damp hair hanging down.

Such a domestic scene.

He got up from the bed and went to her. "Beau, huh?"

Her cheeks flushed scarlet. "You know what I mean."

He put his hands to her waist. "I wasn't born in the 1800's, Bella. I was never anyone's beau."

She ducked her head. "Getting ahead of myself, anyway," she muttered.

With two fingers underneath her chin, he tilted her head up. "No, sweetheart. You're not." He kissed her. A serious kiss. He let his hand drift down to the small of her back so he could pull her flush against him.

Bella whimpered and pulled back. Her heartbeat raced. He could see her skin had broken out in gooseflesh, and could smell the adrenaline marked by her cold sweat. "I'm sorry," he said, taking a quick step backward. "Bella, I didn't mean—"

She held up a hand—he could see the way it trembled—even as she turned away from him. "It's fine." Her tone was thin. "I'm fine. Just...give me a minute."

If she hadn't been between him and the door, he'd have gone downstairs to find her some water. As it was, he stayed motionless, helpless as she battled to steady her breath. Her eyes were screwed tightly shut. He imagined that, this time, he wouldn't have wanted to know what she was thinking.

"I'm sorry," he said minutes later when her heartbeat had slowed and her breaths were even again. "That was careless."

She huffed and groaned. "Will you sit down on the bed please?"

Ever confused, he obeyed readily. She opened her eyes, peeking at him, and when she saw he'd complied, she went to him on fawn's legs. He shouldn't have been surprised when she sat on his lap, wrapped her arms around his neck, and buried her face against his skin. It broke his heart that he could feel the heat of her tear-streaked cheeks.

"I'm not afraid of you. I swear I'm not afraid of you," she whispered.

He said nothing, but just held her, stroking her hair.

After a few minutes, she growled and struck her open palm against his chest. With a gasp, she raised her head. "Sorry." Then she furrowed her brow. "No. Nevermind. You can take it." She gave his chest another smack.

"Are you angry with me?"

"No. I'm sorry. I shouldn't hit you just because it doesn't hurt you. I'm sorry." She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder again. "I'm not angry at you. I'm just angry." She sniffled. "I want to believe I can be normal. Ugh." Rather than hit him again, her hand found his, and she twined their fingers together. "I just have to be prepared. I was fine when I knew what was happening." Another deep breath. "You surprised me."

Now that he thought about it, Bella had been the instigator of each and every one of their touches and kisses. This was the first time he'd taken the initiative.

She gave him a watery smile. "Just takes some practice, I guess."

He cupped her face, brushing the pad of his thumb over her lips. "You never back down, do you?"

"There's nowhere to go but on." Her fingers stroked the hairs at his nape, her eyes studying his face as she sniffled again. "You never did tell me what I should wear."

He laughed and hugged her close. He did adore this human. His human. His Bella. "Whatever you damn well please," he said.

Some time later, they were headed downstairs, walking hand in hand. "I didn't come in my car, but if you'd like me to drive, I can, of course," he said.

She had an apprehensive look on her face. He touched her arm. "Are you having second thoughts? Because if you are—"

"I'm not."

"Then what is it?"

She screwed up her nose as she peered at him. "I was wondering… You know how you said you liked the speed? How fast you can run?"

He furrowed his brow. Would he ever get over his frustration of not being able to glean her thoughts straight from her mind? "Yes?"

"I was wondering if we could _run_ to your house."

Edward blinked at her. "You mean _really_ run."

She nodded. "I want to know what it's like."

"I've run with you before."

Her lips turned up at the corner of her mouth, and her eyes danced. "I want to know what it's like when I'm fully aware of what the hell is happening."

"Ah. Right." He considered a moment then offered his hand to her again. "Care for a piggy back ride."

Her lips crinkled as though she didn't know wasn't sure if he was kidding. When he only looked back at her serenely, she took his hand. "Okay."

When he got her around to his back, she clung to him, her legs around his waist and her arms in a stranglehold around his stone neck. She ducked her head against his neck. "Hold on tight. Hold on tight," she chanted to herself.

He chuckled, giving her legs a reassuring squeeze. "Don't worry, spider monkey. I'm not going to let you fall." With that, he ran.

It was, for both of them, a unique and breathtaking experience. Well, if Edward had breath, it would have been taken. The feel of her on his back—warm, her heartbeat thudding—was incredible. Her quick breaths in his ear gave him an odd kind of pleasure. He'd never been able to share this exhilaration before. Not like this. Her cheek was pressed against his.

When he was sure the little noises she made weren't of terror but of exhilaration, he pushed faster. She whooped, and he laughed.

He'd always thought if a human only knew about him—that vampires weren't myths as they believed—they would be terrified. Yet, despite being terrorized by a monster arguably worse than anything she'd seen or read in fiction, Bella was endlessly fascinated by vampires in general, and Edward specifically.

Barely two minutes passed before they arrived in front of his house. He pulled to a quick stop, and she gave a shriek of surprise. "Are you okay?" Edward asked, though he was more amused than actually concerned.

Bella let out a high-pitched giggle—more like a cackle. She set her feet on the ground and leaned her forehead against his back. "That was cool." She raised her head and kissed his cheek. "Can you run forever?"

He laughed again. He could hear his mother, father, and brother's amusement. "I suppose I could. You do run out of Earth eventually, though."

When she'd calmed, he offered his hand to her. She took a steadying breath and squared her shoulders, ever brave.

Carlisle and Esme were in the living room. Both of them smiled but kept their distance as Edward and Bella came in the room. They needn't have bothered. Bella kept her left hand tightly in Edward's, but stepped forward, as though he was her tether. She offered her hand out to Esme. "Hi."

Esme and Carlisle were instantly charmed. Edward grew more smitten by the minute. Especially as Bella's curiosity got the better of her.

"How do you touch blood all the time?" Bella asked Carlisle. "Wouldn't it be like a heroin addict just swimming in heroin?"

Edward snorted because that was an apt description if ever he'd heard it. He was an addict breathing in heroin, kissing it, but never indulging. To indulge would be to overdose, and then both of them would be destroyed.

He shook his head, dispelling that heavy thought. He concentrated instead on Carlisle's answer.

"See, I have a theory," Esme said, her grin wide. She wound her arm through her husband's. "It's true that Carlisle is compassionate, but compassion alone doesn't keep you from feeding when the urge hits."

Edward heard the pang in her voice and saw the memories flash through her mind. Esme had killed four humans before she mastered her control.

"But Carlisle's main personality trait is pure stubbornness," Esme said, looking up into her husband's eyes as he looked bemusedly back at her. "He was going to be a good vampire if it killed him."

"Stubbornness?" Carlisle asked.

"Amplified by vampire strength, as with everything else."

Carlisle chuckled. "Well. My father would have agreed with you."

Emmett and Rosalie appeared then. Bella took one look at Emmett and all but plastered herself against Edward's side. Emmett just smiled, but Edward could hear the hurt in his thoughts. Not personal hurt, but for her. He kept his tone light as he greeted her, introducing both himself and Rosalie.

Bella gulped, but curiosity got the better of her. "Okay, so… being a vampire amplifies everything. And vampires are already super strong. So what does that make you?"

Even Rosalie laughed at that one. Emmett waggled his eyebrows. "Really, really strong."

"And yet you can't beat me in wrestling," Edward said, rubbing Bella's back.

"Because you're a mind-reading freak," Emmett scoffed. He looked at Bella. "This guy cheats. If he didn't, there'd be an Edward-shaped hole in the backyard."

Bella looked at Edward coolly and raised an eyebrow. Edward laughed at the implied threat. He remembered she'd said he should let Emmett slap him around a bit for his lie.

It was only a few minutes later that Rosalie tired of the game. That was how she saw it. She didn't understand what Edward was playing at, with his arm around Bella's shoulders. She didn't know what Bella was playing, pretending that she could pal around with vampires.

"So what is this?" Rosalie said. "You came to gawk at the sideshow freaks?"

Bella furrowed her brow. She looked somewhat stricken. "No. No, it's not that."

"Rosalie." Carlisle's voice was soft and admonishing. "Don't you think it's natural for Bella to be curious?"

"No. I think it's natural for Bella to be terrified."

Edward gritted his teeth. Rose was nothing if not blunt.

"You think I should be scared of you?" Bella asked.

"You think you shouldn't be? You get a papercut, and you'll be dead before you blinked."

Bella shuddered. Her hand got damp in his. Edward growled, low and under his breath so Rosalie could hear but Bella couldn't. His sister's eyes flitted to his, and he heard the challenge in her thoughts.

 _You think you're any better than that asshole, playing with your human?_

Edward was struck by that. He had to clench the fist of his free hand to keep from snarling at his sister. How dare she?

"I'm not afraid of you," Bella said. It was a lie. Her voice shook, but she was in control of herself. "But you're right. I have things to talk about." She looked to Carlisle and Esme. "Can we maybe sit down?"

"Of course." Carlisle swept his hand toward the dining room.

"Hey… if you don't need to sit or sleep or any of that, why do you guys have furniture?" Bella asked.

That broke the tension again. They all laughed. Except for Rosalie. She was vaguely annoyed at how quickly everyone took to their new pet. She found it degrading.

"It's just in case," Esme said. "That, and I like to decorate."

"My mother's worked as an interior decorator several times," Edward said. "She's best at restorations, though. Restoring old homes."

"Well, I do have personal knowledge of what homes looked like, at least through the 1800's," Esme said, her smile bright.

"That's awesome."

"It's great," Rosalie said, her tone icy. "Can we talk?"

Edward glared. Bella cleared her throat. They all sat. And Bella finally took her hand from Edward's. He frowned at the loss of contact.

"Okay." Bella was nervous. She wiped her hands on her jeans. "Edward told me you've all been helping protect me from...him." She had to pause to take a steadying breath. "But I think he's holding back."

Edward's head snapped toward her, and Emmett guffawed. "Oh, hell. She's got your number, bro."

Bella looked at him apologetically. "You want to protect me. I get that, but I can tell you're pulling your punches."

"It's nothing you need to be concerned about."

"See, there's where you're wrong." Some of her nervous tics were coming back. She began to wring her hands and stare off, like she'd done so often when they talked early on in their friendship. "This is what I wanted. I wanted to know what was going on. Everything." She hurried on before he could speak. "I want to understand. Everything."

So they talked.

Edward hated how scared it made her. He hated how the smiling, somewhat confident, bright presence he'd watched emerge over the past couple of days faded before his eyes.

By the time they explained about the wolves, she'd pulled her knees up to her chest, ducking her head and rocking slightly right there at the kitchen table. Esme had moved to the chair next of her and ran her fingers through her hair—the motherly touch Edward had so often reveled in.

"That boy. Jacob. That's how he knew I was talking to you."

"He could smell me around your house," Edward said.

Bella covered her face with her hands and laughed. That old, raw sound. "God, what is this? Vampires. Werewolves."

Before he could stop him, Emmett said, "Actually, these are shapeshifters. Those are different from werewolves."

Edward shook his head and Bella groaned. "I'm surrounded. Surrounded," she muttered under her breath, raking her hand through her hair. "What else? Mummies? Zombies? Witches?"

"Witches," Rosalie said, her voice hard.

"Fuck."

Edward put his arm around Bella's shoulders, and she leaned into him. "Bella, the wolves are harmless to you."

"As long as none of them get angry and fursplode when you're standing too close," Rosalie muttered.

Edward made a mental note that he was going to kill his sister later. He hugged Bella close. "They're helping protect you, remember?"

Bella lifted her head, her eyes narrowed. "Oh, so all werewolves—shifters, what the fuck ever—are good, huh? Is that part of their make up? Their special power? Automatic goodness?" She chuffed. "Isn't it like everything else? There are bad humans. There are good vampires. There can't be bad wolves? Jacob was a jerk. If he wanted to act on his innate jerkiness, you're telling me this is another asshole I can't protect myself from?"

"I'd never let that happen," Edward said, his voice hard. "I'd know if he was even thinking that way." _And I'd end him_.

Bella hid her face again. Her breath came in staccato puffs. After another few seconds, though, she raised her head. She stared forward, not looking at any of them. "I want in."

Her words were met by silence. "You want into what, sweetheart?" Esme asked, stroking her hair from her eyes.

"I want in. I want in the superhuman club."

If Edward had a heart, it would have stopped beating that moment. "What?" The word came out rough. "Bella, no. No. We can protect you."

"The hell you can. He almost got to me once already." She stood up and started pacing. "I saw what he did to you, Edward." She shook her head—the movement jerky. "Like Emmett said. You're a mind-reader. You can beat him, and he's the size of a house, but you can't beat that bastard."

Edward stood too, and tried to take her by the shoulders. She twisted away from him, wrapping her arms around herself. "There are too many of us," he said, addressing the side of her face since she wouldn't look at him. "Between us and the wolves, we can get him."

"Yeah, but can you promise me none of you will die?"

"He can't," Rosalie said.

" _Rose_ ," Edward said through clenched teeth.

"Oh, it's nothing I can't figure out myself," Bella snapped.

"Bella, it's just a matter of planning. We can keep you safe until we figure out how to take care of him."

She finally stopped pacing and whirled to face him. "I don't _want_ you to have to protect me." She drew in a breath with a wheeze. "Don't you understand? Four fucking asshole _humans_ took everything from me. Everything." She squeezed her eyes shut, struggling to take a deep breath. "Do you get that's how I took my life back? I couldn't trust anyone. No one. You can't tell who the human monsters are. They look like everyone else. So I learned how to defeat them. I learned how to protect myself, and I learned how to win. I made it so that no one could do that to me ever again.

"How do I protect myself now? There is no winning against... _things._ I can't do this." Her eyes were red-rimmed and pleading with him. "Look, even if you do take care of Jasper." She shuddered just saying his name. "Even if you take him out, how am I supposed to live with this knowledge? How am I supposed to wander around like I don't know that vampires exist? That werewolves exist? How am I supposed to forget that any one of them could kill me—could do any damn thing they want with me—and there's nothing, _nothing,_ I can do? I can't _live_ like that. I can't survive knowing how helpless I am."

She surged forward and took Edward by the arms. If he'd been human, she would have shaken him. As it was, her hands pressed uselessly on his stone arms. Her eyes were desperate and wild. "I. Want. In."

* * *

 **A/N: Welp….**


	22. Chapter 22

_**A/N: MEEP!**_

* * *

"Bella, your heartrate is getting pretty erratic. Come sit down, won't you?"

Carlisle's calm voice broke the intense stare down between Bella and Edward. She shuddered and dropped her gaze, taking a step away from him. She let Esme take her arm and lead her to the couch. There, she sank down with her head between her knees.

"You're upset, and that's understandable," Edward said. "This is your panic talking. Don't make decisions when you feel like this."

Bella growled in frustration. She grabbed fistfulls of her hair and tugged, letting the pressure put walls around the out-of-control whirlwind in her mind. She felt a cool, gentle hand on her back. Esme, she realized, and that was good. Right now, she was just a little too pissed at Edward to want him to touch her.

Two full minutes passed in silence. Bella counted each second, inhaling and exhaling until the iron grip around her lungs eased and the lump in her throat shrunk enough that she could trust herself to speak. She raised her head, ignoring the others in the room so she could look straight at Edward. He stood in front of her, his eyes gentle as ever. "This isn't a new thought," she said, pleased when her voice stayed steady.

"Bella—"

"No. Listen to me. Have you ever been anyone's victim?"

He flinched at that, visibly taken aback. Bella clenched her fists, feeling the helplessness roil through her as the memories came again. She breathed in through her nose, closing her eyes. "There's a point when you stop begging them—him—not to do this. When you stop trying to wake up from the nightmare. When all you can think about is making the bastards pay for what they've done."

Bella opened her eyes again, finding his tortured gaze on hers. "That was one more thing he took from me. There was no scenario I could imagine that didn't end up with me on the losing side. In fact, I tried to provoke him to kill me. He was going to do it anyway, and it was the one thing I could have. My death on my terms. So if you want to know how long I've wanted this? I've wanted it since he told me the only thing that could kill a vampire was another vampire."

"Fuck," Emmett said under his breath. Esme squeezed Bella's shoulders.

Though she knew it was impossible, Edward looked like he was going to be sick. "It _is_ death, Bella. Don't you see that?"

"No. It's not." She hesitated a beat, but he needed to understand this. She forced herself to look in his eyes. "I don't want to die, Edward. That's the whole point. I meant what I said before. I can't live like this. Do you understand what I'm telling you? I won't."

"Bella." The word came out raw and broken. He went to her and knelt before her, taking her hands in his. "There are more than those two options. I can—"

"Don't tell her you can protect her."

Bella's head snapped up, and she looked at Rosalie who was glaring at her brother. He glared right back, his look so ferocious, it actually scared Bella. Rosalie was unfazed. She crossed her arms. "You've already proven that you can't protect her."

"There are other ways. If we—"

"What other ways? Are you going to suggest one of us is with her wherever she goes? She never gets any privacy again? Do you think that's any less of a prison than that bastard kept her in?"

Bella shuddered, and wrapped her arms around her shoulders, staring downward.

"She's right, Edward," Rosalie said. "You've never been a victim. You can't know what it's like to be that helpless."

"She's not helpless," Edward said through gritted teeth.

"She's surrounded by vampires and werewolves. She is helpless."

"Shut. Up, Rosalie."

"Whoa, hey." Emmett narrowed his eyes at his brother. Carlisle and Esme both moved into tensed stances. Bella pulled her legs up to her chest, instinctively making herself as small as possible as Edward stood and faced his family. Emmett took a menacing step forward and pointed a finger. "Don't talk to her that way, Edward."

"What the hell do you think she's trying to do? She's trying to convince Bella that killing herself is a good idea."

"I never said I was going to kill myself," Bella said, her voice rough.

Edward turned, and they locked eyes again. Bella squared her shoulders. "I'll do whatever it takes to survive. If you won't help me…" She shivered, but her gaze remained steady. "I know someone who will."

"No." Edward's voice was a growl now. "I would stop you."

Fury rushed down Bella's spine. She stood up, staring at Edward, as nose to nose as she could get. "You would stop me? How? By force? You would take my choice away from me? My agency?"

He shrunk under her words, the ferocity draining from his features as his eyes grew tortured again. "That's not… Bella—"

"I think you need to take a few minutes to get a damn grip before you open your mouth again," Rosalie said. "Emmett. Carlisle. Maybe you want to take Edward for a walk."

"Rose—" Edward started, but then, in an instant, Carlisle was there beside him.

"Give them a minute alone with Bella, Edward," he said, his tone gentle as he put a hand to his son's shoulder.

Edward shook his head in a jerky movement. "You can't want this for her. You can't think this is right. Not when she has another choice." He looked to Rosalie. "How can _you_ think it's right? There isn't a day that goes by that you don't wish you were still human. How can you want this for her?"

Rosalie rolled her eyes. "I can't keep secrets from you, so I know you can see that's not what I think."

"I think Rose is right, Edward," Esme said, her voice as calm as her husband's, but commanding as well. "You're not going to be able to understand the way that we can."

"But—"

"Nothing is going to happen right now. You know Bella's safe with your mother and sister," Carlisle said. Bella let Esme pull her to the side so Carlisle could face Edward head on. "Let's give them a little room."

Edward stared at Bella a moment longer, but when Emmett came up beside him, he didn't fight. He took off running—there one second, gone the next. They followed.

Bella put her hands over her face and groaned as she sank back down on the couch. That kind of an exit was startling, especially after an intense standoff. She knew she'd hurt Edward. Whether or not he had any ground to stand on, it didn't change the fact she'd hurt him. That didn't feel good.

Then again, none of this was about feeling good. It was a matter of what she could live with versus what she couldn't—literal life and death. He couldn't restore her blissful ignorance.

She took a deep breath and blew it out before she raised her head to look at the two inhumanly beautiful women in front of her. She offered Esme a small smile before she looked to Rosalie. "What changed?" she asked.

Rosalie didn't bother to pretend she didn't know what Bella was talking about. A small smile played at her lips. "My idiot brother fell in love with a human. A human and a vampire. Tell me how that's going to end well. You're no fool, Bella Swan. You're not naive, so I didn't know what grown woman in her right mind—let alone a woman with the trouble you've had—would be doing wandering into a house full of vampires. I figured you were here to stare at us, like we were some sideshow there for your entertainment." She flicked her hair—her face pinched in remembered annoyance. "Either that or I figured you were looking to go out in a blaze of glory. Death by vampire coven."

"Rosalie," Esme said sharply.

Bella smiled at her. "It's okay," she said a little weakly. "I actually prefer bluntness at this point."

It was daunting, after all. With Edward gone, she was well aware of what it meant to be alone in a room with two vampires, one of whom had been openly hostile to her not twenty minutes before.

"But you're not some stupid kid with a vampire fetish," Rosalie said. She tilted her chin up. "It doesn't mean I agree with you, but I can see your point."

Esme came to sit beside Bella on the couch again. She put a tentative arm around her, and smiled when Bella leaned into her. Despite her cold, hard skin, Bella was surprised to find her presence was warm and motherly. Esme smoothed her hair back. "Women are born in danger, aren't we? It's been a long time, but I remember that feeling. Knowing I wasn't in control of my own destiny."

"I'd never thought about it that way before," Rosalie said. Her tone and expression were contemplative as she sat in the chair opposite the couch. "In my day, I never feared walking down the street alone. But then, up until the day I died, I never had a reason to believe men weren't there to protect me.

"Edward told me once that if I could hear into the minds of men, I'd be a bloodthirsty monster. He often has trouble controlling his temper when we're out in public and he can hear the things men are thinking about me and Esme."

The corner of her mouth quirked up at one side, and she looked at Bella with a glint in her eyes. "Yes, all women. That was the hashtag, right? Yes, all women have experienced some form of sexual assault or harassment? Yes, all women are afraid even if they don't recognize it on a conscious level. And they have every reason to be. They are, after all, held responsible for their own safety. They're blamed if their vigilance slips for one moment, and they walked in the wrong place at the wrong time. If they dared to drink and dropped their guard. Women are taught to be afraid."

Her lips curved back into a smile that sent a chill down Bella's spine. "I'm not afraid," Rosalie said. "That's one thing I've never been since I woke in this new life. I fear no man, and I walk in the dark with impunity; without a second thought."

Esme knitted her brows. "I always feared my human husband," she said, her expression far off. "Yet, I never feared Carlisle. But now that I think of it, my very first instinct, when I woke, disoriented, was to attack him. I was stronger than he was as a newborn. That I could knock him over—that I felt like I could tear apart a whole building with my bare hands—gave me a tremendous amount of personal strength that I can't recall having in my human life. I always felt very meek as a human." She looked at Bella and nodded. "I understand."

Relief flooded through Bella. As she'd told Edward, she'd been thinking about this for a long time. She'd thought about it even more since he'd been able to answer so many of the questions she had about vampires. Still, she hadn't been planning to blurt it out the way she had. Learning that there were more supernatural creatures out there—and worse, that the reservation her father frequently visited was infested with them—had brought on a panic attack, that was all. She'd fully expected Edward wouldn't react well, and had planned to give herself enough time to come up with just the right words to explain herself. "You don't think I'm crazy?" she asked Esme.

The woman shook her head, but Rosalie snorted. "Of course you're crazy. Wanting to become a soulless monster is insane." She crossed her arms over her chest. "But trauma does that to a person. What happened to me, what happened to you, what happened to Esme isn't normal. Why should our reaction be?"

Bella sat up straighter, nodding. "Edward said you regret not being human?" she asked tentatively.

Rosalie's lips tugged downward. "None of us had a choice in what we became. I think you can understand why I sometimes resent Carlisle for taking away my choice. And sometimes I think death would have been a kinder option." She turned her head to the side. "I wanted nothing as much as I wanted to be a mother, and no matter how strong I am, that's something I won't ever have." She shook her head. "My fiancé and his friends killed that dream when they killed me, but Carlisle made sure I would ache for what I couldn't have for countless human lifetimes."

"I'm sorry," Bella whispered, aching for what this woman had been through. For a brief moment, she tried to imagine that she knew the men who'd hurt her as Rosalie had known her assailants. Her fiancé. Edward hadn't told her that. What a terrible thing to be hurt—killed—by the man who was supposed to be your happily ever after.

"I know he was clumsy with his words," Esme said, cupping Bella's cheek with a tender touch. "But Edward's heart is in the right place. My poor boy bears the weight of all our guilt. He can hear it when we struggle with this life. With what it means to be a vampire, and the things we can't have." Her skin pinched at the corners of her eyes as though she was in pain, but she smiled. "There's a lot worth living for. Children are perhaps the greatest among them."

Bella ducked her head, tears stinging her eyes. "I can't have children. Not after what they did to me," she whispered.

"Oh, you poor child." Esme pulled her close.

"It's okay," Bella said. At seventeen, she hadn't thought of children with any degree of seriousness. "I'm just saying it's not a concern."

"You can still adopt," Rosalie said.

Bella laughed and shook her head. "Maybe. And then what? I get to live the rest of my life wondering if every 'person' I pass is actually a monster? I can't protect myself; you think I could live with the fact I might get to watch my kid be torn apart in front of me?" She shuddered with the thought. "That ship has sailed. My human life is done."

 _ **~Edward~**_

There were advantages to being the only vampire he knew with his particular gift. Only he knew his true limits. Carlisle—ever curious and science-minded—had once convinced him to experiment. They'd tested the range of Edward's 'hearing' under several variables.

What Carlisle didn't know was Edward had found as he came to know his family more intimately, he'd begun to hear their thoughts from further away. Though he felt like a cad—he did try to give his family privacy when he could—Edward deliberately skirted the line of his range of hearing, picking up bits and pieces of Bella's conversation.

He heard when Bella won over Rosalie and Esme. He stopped short, breaking off the hunt for the herd of deer Carlisle and Emmett tried to distract him with. He'd stopped so quickly, it sent a spray of dirt arcing through the air. Rage and betrayal consumed him. With a roar of fury, he uprooted a tree, then another.

Then, he ran. He ignored his father and brother calling after him. He needed to get away. He needed to leave because he knew if he didn't, he'd run straight into that house, grab Bella, and abscond with her deep into the forest where he knew she'd be helpless to find her way back to anyone who would dare turn her.

Helpless.

He couldn't be the one who made her helpless, and so, he ran away from his human love. He pushed himself to top speed—far faster than his father and brother could ever hope to catch up with.

As he ran, he plotted. Surely there had to be some way to make Bella see. He couldn't doom her to this life. She didn't understand what it meant yet. She didn't understand the things she would be capable of.

His family was different because they valued human life. Despite that, every single one of them had blood on their hands.

Or was he simply projecting his angst onto Bella? Carlisle constantly questioned to what extent he'd played God, creating this family he loved so much. Rosalie and Esme had both been turned after a severe trauma. Rosalie's anger was part of her, and always would be. Esme's grief for her children would remain an open wound on her heart, always. They weren't human, so they couldn't heal. The only solace was that their vampiric nature allowed them to think around those things.

Emmett, though, had an experience none of them did. He was so easygoing as to be pragmatic. When he slipped up, he was sorry, but never for long. All lives ended, and he'd never ended a life maliciously. He was a vampire, and as he said, "Shit happens."

No. Emmett preferred to concentrate on the good. He _loved_ being a vampire. He loved the strength and the speed. He played with it—throwing boulders and stacking whole trees into ornate towers just because he could.

 _Edward Cullen._

Edward heard the voice in his head before he heard her running steps through the trees. For the second time that day, he stopped short, this time crashing into a tree that soon boasted an Edward shaped hole.

It was another vampire running toward him. An unfamiliar voice, and yet…

She was singing the Battle Hymn of the Republic in her head. Loudly. Simultaneously, she was calculating pi. She was also reciting War and Peace verbatim—in English, Spanish, French, and German.

He realized with a start that she was intentionally blocking him from reading her thoughts. Or trying, at least. A growl built low in his throat as he realized that even with all that, he still caught glimpses—faces flashing through her thoughts. It was unlike anything he'd ever heard before—snatches of conversation. Bursts of images. And they kept changing, warped somehow around the edges.

But none of that mattered. No. What mattered, what had him crouching low, teeth bared, ready to fight, was the content of the other vampire's strange thoughts.

He saw his face. His face and everyone he cared about. Carlisle. Esme. Emmett. Rosalie.

Bella.

And he saw Jasper—the demon's eyes glinting red, focused on the fight.

He saw a glimpse—Jasper ripping both Carlisle's arms from his body before he went for Esme's throat.

He heard Bella scream his name.

The other vampire got closer, and Edward tensed, ready to spring.

Ready to fight.

* * *

 **A/N: *whistles***


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: Ahhh who could it be!?**

* * *

 _I'm not your enemy, Edward Cullen._

Edward clenched his jaw. He was sure he'd never heard this vampire's voice before. How did she know him? And what the hell was going on in her thoughts?

He saw himself now, his eyes dark and dangerous, glaring across the clearing—the clearing he was standing in now—with his teeth bared. His jacket was torn. He looked down quickly—long enough to see his jacket looked whole and complete.

 _Get a hold of yourself. Your life may depend on it._

He saw Bella's terrified face in the strange vampire's thoughts and he snarled.

 _Her life may depend on it._

Edward roared in fury. "I'm going to end you," he yelled.

"No, you're not," came a sing-song voice.

Edward whipped his head around. He jumped into the forest, going after her. He finally saw her. Jet black hair cropped short. Devilish grin. A split second before he sprang at her, he saw the disconcerting image of himself jumping. She was standing right in front of him.

And then she was gone. He flew through the place she'd been standing. His jacket caught on a branch as he turned himself around, getting his bearings again.

She'd hopped up into the tree, but he could see in her thoughts that she had no intention of attacking him. He snarled low and threatening under his breath.

"Get a grip." She tossed a white cloth down to him. "I come in peace." She tilted her head and grinned. "You can read my mind. You know I'm telling the truth."

Edward narrowed his eyes and struggled to cast off the instinct to defend. Vampires were territorial by nature, and this one carried mental images that threatened his family. But his rational mind prevailed. Her thoughts—not the images but the words in her head—were peaceful. "You know me."

She shrugged. "Yes and no."

Edward cocked his head, trying to parse her thoughts. They were so _strange._ The images that went with them weren't clear, and they kept skipping. They weren't…

They weren't the present.

"You can tell the future."

In her thoughts, he watched his own stupefied face as she jumped to the ground. He heard her chuckle, and then she actually did jump down.

She was a tiny thing—waifish. Her golden eyes were curious and amused as she looked back at him.

Golden eyes. "You're a vegetarian," he said in her thoughts a split second before he said it out loud.

He shook his head. "Stop that," he echoed his own voice again. Stereo sound.

She giggled. "Sorry."

Just like that, the weird, hazy thoughts vanished. The flipping images stopped.

"Who the hell are you?" Edward asked, still tensed to spring at the slightest provocation.

"I'm Alice."

"How do you know me? How do you know my name?"

The flipping images came back, but this time, Edward recognized them as a memory. He saw himself and Alice arm in arm. He was smiling.

"You and I have never met if that's what you're asking," Alice said. "But I do know you fairly well, I think. I've been having visions of you for a while."

Edward furrowed his brow. "Why?"

She whistled. "Now that, my friend, is a question without an easy answer." She cocked her head. "Or is it that my answer is without an easy question?"

"What does that mean?" Edward was beginning to get frustrated with the strange creature.

Alice smiled at him. "It means if I answer your question directly, you'll just have a thousand more. Let me see if I can answer them all at once."

In her head, he heard his own voice asking questions. They overlapped and echoed in a way that would have been impossible to separate if he'd been human. His shoulders relaxed as he became more fascinated than on edge.

"I woke two and a half years ago as a vampire with no memory of my human life," Alice said. "I woke alone."

Edward raised his eyebrows. "Alone?"

"I think you had something to do with that." Her voice was far away, her expression spaced out.

"Me? How?"

"Your family." She shook her head. "I'm not used to this yet. I can see you're confused. Imagine what I feel." She laughed—a pleasant, tinkling sound. "You know how they say when you make a decision you either go down one path or another? The problem with this gift is one, there are always more than two paths. And two, each of those paths leads to more decisions. My visions seem to work on what I decide or other people decide, but it's not that simple. At any given moment, you're decided on what you want to do—what sounds better—and you change your own mind."

Alice spread her hands out wide. "So what I end up with is a head full of possible futures."

She opened her memories to him then, and Edward gasped. He found himself hunching forward, wrapping his arms around his head as though he could contain the madness somehow.

Images inundated. His family. Bella. Jasper. Bella with glowing red eyes. Jasper ripping Emmett to pieces. Alice's perspective as she and Jasper circled each other, his eyes glinting with danger.

Another image of Jasper, his face close. He looked different from anytime Edward had seen him. His eyes, focused on Alice, were tender. Wondering. The same way Edward looked at Bella.

Edward whirled on Alice, slipping back into a fighting stance with a hiss. "You're his mate."

Alice quirked an eyebrow. "Actually, I've never met him."

Edward narrowed his eyes, but he could see in her thoughts she was telling the truth. She rolled her eyes. "You're even more melodramatic in person; you know that?"

Despite himself, Edward's lips quirked. His body was still coiled, ready to spring. Fury brimmed right beneath the surface of his stone skin. If this woman was with Jasper…

"Look, I'm just as confused as you are." She huffed. "More so, don't you think? Don't get me wrong. What he did to your Bella—that was all kinds of messed up. I don't approve. And being vampire, I'm very passionate about my disapproval. Yet that vision of us—of me and him—hasn't completely gone away no matter what I decide. Look, you're getting ahead of me. Hold on, okay?"

She knitted her brows. "Where was I?"

It was a bizarre thing to hear a vampire say. With perfect recall, there was no such thing as forgetting what they'd been saying. Once, Edward and Carlisle—caught up in a philosophical discussion—had gone off on a tangent that lasted a literal day. Once that line of thought had concluded, they picked up their discussion from where it had left off without difficulty.

Alice, he was beginning to see, didn't live in reality. Rather, she lived in the midst of too many realities. "How hard is it to keep your real timeline straight?" he asked, curious.

She grinned. "All but impossible at times, but that'll change. I'm practically a newborn." She glared at him again and huffed. "Will you be quiet? I'm trying to tell you a story."

Fighting a smile, Edward waved his hand out indicating she should continue. She gave him the hairy eyeball for another moment before she relented. "Anyway. So, I wake up as a vampire, and I have no idea how I got this way. I have this overwhelming _thing_ going on in my head." She rummaged in her pockets. "All I had on was a hideous sweatpants and shirt combo and this." She handed him a photo.

The photo was of her—human her. She was sitting on a chair, and there was something strange about the look in her eyes. As she'd mentioned, she was wearing ill-fitting clothes. Her cheeks were sallow, her hair and skin lackluster. On her lap, quite the contrast to her drained, not-all-there form, was a tiny girl. A familiar tiny girl.

"This is Bella's charge when she was a toddler," Edward said, a jolt of shock going through him. "The little girl she was watching when that bastard found her." Both times.

"Cynthia." Alice stepped cautiously closer, eyeing him, scanning the future in case he decided to attack her. She tapped the photo. "Crazy Aunt Alice." She pointed to herself.

"Cynthia's aunt who disappeared from a mental health facility." Edward ran a hand through his hair, thinking of the implications of that. "This is…"

"Twisted?" Alice suggested. She nodded, taking the picture back from him and stepping a safe distance away. "Makes you wonder about fate, doesn't it?" She studied him a long moment. "We're all tangled up. Your family, Bella, Jasper, and me. When I woke up, the future started spinning, you were all just...there. I met you in a thousand different ways. And it was helpful, believe me."

He saw in her head a memory. Her thirst was so powerful, Edward's mouth filled with venom. She ran through the forest, her mind a mess of future visions even as her instincts drove her to the hunt. She saw death and destruction. She saw what would happen if she reached humanity and gave into her thirst. She was wild, uncontrolled. She saw herself tearing through a whole town. She heard the screams, the screeching tires, the cries of the children and saw herself standing in the middle of a road, covered in blood.

Edward shook his head hard. It wasn't an easy image. That kind of carnage sent a thrill of fear through every vampire with any sense. A scene like that would surely bring the Volturi down on her head. "What stopped you?" he asked, his voice rough.

"You did. I saw all the discussions I'd have with you and your family. Carlisle tried to kill himself rather than drink a human, didn't he? And he was born in the middle of a city."

Edward's danger sense tingled again. It was disconcerting. For this woman, who had never seen Carlisle or any of the rest of his family with her own eyes, to talk about him as though they were good friends didn't sit comfortably with him.

"So not eating people seemed like a good decision, because every time I decided I really, really wanted to eat people, bad things happened in my head. I almost visited my sister and Cynthia once." She shuddered, and Edward balked at the carnage in her mind. That poor, tiny girl.

Distracting himself from that disturbing image, Edward went on to the next question. "Am I really the first one you've spoken to in reality?"

"I've been through every stretch of wilderness from here to Iceland," she said wryly. "I isolated myself early on. It took a while before I was anything approaching coherent."

"And you figured out how to turn it off at will," Edward said, remembering how she'd stopped looking at their immediate future when he couldn't get used to hearing his words in her head a split second before he said them out loud.

"Doesn't work all the time, but yeah. I'm getting better at it."

Edward nodded, taking it all in. "So why now?"

She gave him a look. "You forced my hand, didn't you?" She spoke the words like a parent with her hands on her hips, clucking her tongue in shame. "Bella wants to be one of us."

Edward's eyes narrowed and he growled, the sound a low rumble in his throat. "That's none of your business."

"It very much is." Alice shook her head, her expression more serious than it had been throughout this whole encounter. "I don't have any explanation for you, but we're bound. All of us. I don't know if I believe in fate, but we're all tangled up regardless. I had visions of Bella and then of you almost as soon as I woke up. It's gotten so complicated now. There are very few ways this doesn't end messy, and my allegiances are torn."

Her face was a mask of sorrow that was echoed in her thoughts. She genuinely cared for his family—for him. What a bizarre creature she was.

"If I'd found you first, maybe the future would be simple," she said.

"You _did_ find me first. He doesn't know you exist."

She considered, for a moment, simply following him home. She considered letting Jasper simply become her enemy. He was right, after all. She didn't _really_ know him.

Yet, she couldn't forget what she'd seen either. She wanted all of them, and that meant she had to make the choice that gave her _time._ If her gift—her curse—had taught her anything, it was that the possibilities were limitless.

He scoffed. "You and he are a lot alike, come to think." They both thought on a long enough timeline, Jasper's sins could be forgiven and for the same reason. Anything could happen. "So what are you asking me to do? What do you want?"

"I don't know what the right choice is, but I think you should know at least one thing. She meant what she said."

Her thoughts pulled up a possible future. He saw Jasper grin wickedly as he reached for Bella, pulling her up against him. She was terrified—he could see that in her eyes—but her expression was resolute. She faced the monster eye-to-eye.

" _Did you come to me because you want to die, angel?" He reached out, trailing a single finger along her cheek._

 _Bella shuddered, visibly repulsed by the touch, but she stood her ground. "You know what I came here for." She took a deep, steadying breath. "Can you just...do it quickly."_

 _He laughed and began to circle her. He swept her hair to one shoulder and skimmed his nose along her neck, right where his bite mark was. He breathed her in. Bella squeezed her eyes tightly shut. He put his hands on her hips. She shook so hard her teeth rattled, but she stayed still._

" _I'm afraid, angel, that there are a few things I need to be sure of before I go and do a thing like that," he said, his lips against her ear._

 _Bella's eyes flew open. She jolted, but he held her fast. "This is what you wanted."_

 _He clucked his tongue. "Humans are so impatient. I'll grant your wish, angel, but on my own time."_

" _What could you possibly want from me?" Her voice shook now, and she'd screwed her eyes shut again. "What does it matter if I'm going to be like you? What does it matter now?"_

" _Different questions now, darlin'," he drawled. "Your gift has me curious for one."_

" _What gift?"_

" _I can't control your emotions. Not well. I can feel how scared you are, but you won't let me turn that down. Why is that?"_

" _Why does it matter?" Bella asked again._

 _He smirked though she couldn't see. He breathed her in again before he let her go. She whirled to face him, wrapping her arms around herself as she did. "I'll tell you soon enough." He patted her cheek, and she flinched. "We have time." He tilted his head, studying her. "Though your unique love life complicates things quite a bit, doesn't it? He'll come for you."_

 _Before Bella could respond to that, Jasper had picked her up. She screamed as he ran, and the vision faded away._

Edward snarled and drove his fist into a tree. The tree shook and cracked. It fell with a boom that reverberated beneath his feet.

This time, it was Alice who hissed. She was reading his future, seeing him going after Jasper with gusto.

"That's another thing you need to know," she said, her voice gone dangerous and cold as ice. "You don't want me as an enemy, Edward Cullen."

She appeared in his visions in a series of possible events. She was fierce and fast. Sometimes, especially as Edward processed what he was seeing and automatically adjusted his fighting style, he could see himself getting the upper hand. Often, though, she prevailed.

Oh, yes. She was dangerous. With Jasper, their combined strength might well be the end of his entire family. He snarled.

"I'm not threatening you," she said firmly, though her face was exactly that—threatening. "The future isn't set. Maybe you'll get to him before I do. Maybe what I've seen won't come to pass."

"Or maybe you'll be the one to tear me apart?" he said between clenched teeth.

"It's not what I want."

He didn't argue. He knew that was true. He considered leaping at her right then, but of course, she saw the fleeting moment he decided. He changed his mind just as quickly, but not quick enough to negate her own decision to attack. He saw that vision too—saw her leap at him.

In reality, both of them reading the other, they only twitched, keeping themselves in check by a breath.

Evenly matched, then.

With considerable effort, Edward rolled his shoulders, throwing off the murderous rage building in him. He straightened up. "Is that all?"

Uncertainty flitted across her features. She straightened up as well. He could hear in her thoughts she wanted to say something. She'd seen glimpses of the two of them. They could have been such good friends.

"Never," he sneered. "Not after what I've seen."

She nodded. "We _will_ meet again." With that, she turned on her heel and ran—away from him, but more importantly, away from Bella.

Bella.

Edward's shoulders slumped and he let his body go still as stone. He replayed the myriad of images Alice had shown him—snatches of possible futures. Inwardly, he roiled at his own helplessness, recalling images he didn't want to carry in his head: Jasper pulling Bella tightly against his body, his family in pieces, Bella's scream, his mother sobbing tearlessly, fingers digging into the pile of ash that had been his father.

Had Bella been right, then? Was there only one way to save her?

The future wasn't guaranteed. Alice had said so.

Need grew at Edward's core. He _needed_ Bella in his arms. He needed to see she was safe. He needed to see with his own eyes that his family was still whole.

Edward turned on his heel and ran back to face the future head on.

* * *

 **A/N: WELP. That's Alice.**

 **Many, many thanks to Betsy, MoH, Eleantor, Packy, and Mina for their help with this chap.**


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: I'm still full from Thursday! How are you?**

* * *

The Cullen family patriarch regarded Bella with an assessing eye. She struggled not to squirm under his gaze. For all his gentleness, Carlisle was intimidating. They were all intimidating in their own ways, but Carlisle was unquestionably their leader, their father.

Their creator.

He nodded. "I'm sure you can understand our, well… bewilderment with your wish, Bella. You wouldn't be the first human to actively seek out this life, but that doesn't typically end well. A being who wants power for the sake of power doesn't make for an inconspicuous vampire."

Bella arched an eyebrow. "Does bringing a person into this life without their knowledge or consent usually make for an inconspicuous vampire?"

Emmett snorted. "She has you there, Carlisle. You didn't really know any of us before you turned us, and you didn't think twice about it." He grinned. "If vampires could have a heart attack, I'm pretty sure I would have given him one."

"Newborn Emmett was a force to be reckoned with," Rosalie said with a smirk. She turned to Bella. "He woke up like a wild animal in a cage—confused and angry and four times as strong as the three of us combined." She shook her head. "It was only luck we were in the woods. He destroyed our cabin to literal kindling."

Carlisle's expression was rueful. "For the record, of course I thought about it. More than twice." His features pinched. "There were consequences, some of which have been very difficult to live with."

Bella wrapped her arms around her shoulders, chafing them. "You think it hasn't been difficult to live with the consequences of my life?" she asked, her voice quiet.

Carlisle stepped closer slowly and when he was in front of her, he squatted down so he could look up into her eyes. "I feel safe in saying Edward's concern is that the price is too great. The consequence of this life is far—reaching. We're predators, Bella, and more animalistic than you can imagine. Our instinct is for the hunt, and it is, at times, impossible to resist."

Bella shivered. "You did."

"But none of the others are weak because they did not. Think on it. I'm certain a great many vampires weren't prone to bloodshed in their human lives. Yet, we're a rarity. More than that, we're—"

"We're freaks." Emmett snorted. "The freaks of the vampire world. It comes up all the time when we meet others. They don't get us."

"That's why most of us think we lose our souls," Rosalie said. "Being turned takes your humanity—everything it is to be human."

"I don't think that's true." Bella rocked a bit, self—soothing. "Even humans do what they have to do to survive. Our instinct is to hunt too. It's not your fault that humans are food to vampires anymore than it's humanity's fault that we like and need meat. But we're all evolving, right? You've figured out you can survive with a substitute for human blood. Vegetarians have figured out how to survive without meat, but that doesn't make the rest of us carnivores monsters. How is it different?"

"I should think the difference is obvious," Esme said.

Bella groaned, hiding her face behind her hands. "I sound like _him._ I sound like that bastard." She sighed, and let her hands drop. "But I didn't disagree with him about everything. If he'd just… attacked me, drank me"—she shuddered—"and moved on, that would suck, but I wouldn't be mad. We're not the top of the food chain. I can accept that on an evolutionary scale. Why should humans think we're special?"

She shook her head. "Should we be concerned that Edward's been gone this long?"

His family smiled. Emmett snickered. "He's fine."

"I don't want him to be mad at me."

"I doubt he's mad at you," Esme said. "Edward has a very singular mind. It's been his mission to protect you since before he even knew you. To him, you becoming a vampire would mean he failed."

Bella frowned. "But it's not—"

Before she could finish that sentence, the vampires in the room all turned in unison, looking toward the front door. All four tensed, heads cocked and stance ready. The front door opened and Bella glimpsed a blur before Edward materialized beside her, taking her face in his hand. She screamed and scrambled backward, falling off the couch.

"I'm sorry." He reached for her, but Bella threw her hands up, curling in on herself. "Oh, hell. Bella, I'm sorry."

Spots danced before Bella's eyes. Her breath came in quick bursts, and her lungs ached. Edward stepped toward her, but she held a hand out, needing him not to touch her. With a groan, she drew her legs up to her chest and hid her face, making herself into as small a ball as possible.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Rosalie hissed, presumably at Edward.

He sighed. "Any number of things."

It took a few minutes for Bella's breathing to even out. When she lifted her head, Edward was kneeling in front of her, his eyes heavy with guilt. "I'm so sorry, Bella. I just… I needed to see you whole and in one piece."

She fixed him with a wary look. "It's not like anyone was going to change me while you were away." She gratefully accepted the glass of water Carlisle brought her, clutching it in both hands to keep from spilling.

He reached up hesitantly, and when she didn't flinch away, he cupped her cheek. "That's not why I was worried."

Bella's heart skipped a beat. "Something happened." It wasn't a question. She whimpered. "He didn't—"

"No," Edward said quickly. His thumb brushed soothingly over her cheek. "Not him."

She cocked her head, knowing there was something between the lines. She gave a startled cry. "There's another one?"

The other four started at that. Edward sighed and stood up. He sat next to her, and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Don't be scared."

She scoffed but ducked her head against his shoulder, fighting the urge to scream in his face that he needed to change her now. She closed her eyes tightly.

"I don't think she's a threat. At least, not yet."

"She?" Carlisle said.

Then, Edward told them the very strange tale of what had happened to Cynthia Brandon's aunt Alice.

 _ **~0~**_

A couple of hours later, Bella sat in the passenger seat of Edward's car as he drove her home. She was quiet, lost in her thoughts.

What was this surreal world she lived in? A world where her vampire boyfriend — boyfriend? — could wander off for a jaunt through the woods only to run into her former charge's long lost aunt.

Her head ached. They pulled into her driveway, but neither of them moved after he shut off the engine. Bella stared at her hands, twirling her fingers in the strings from her hoodie. "Do you understand yet?" she asked, voice soft. "Don't you see that my whole life is tangled up in all of this? In _your_ world? As long as I'm an outsider...a visitor, I'll always be weak and afraid."

He didn't look at her, but continued staring face forward. After a few long moments he sighed. "I know," he said quietly.

Bella's heartbeat picked up. Was he agreeing, then? His brows were knit, his jaw clenched as he stared sightlessly. She pressed her lips together, considering her next words. "I'm not asking you and your family to take me in, you know. That's kind of the whole point. I want to be able to take care of myself."

Edward turned to stare at her, the expression on his face so hurt, Bella shrank back. "Bella." He pronounced the word slowly, as its own sentence. "Have you not been listening to me, or is it that you just don't believe me when I tell you how I feel about you?"

Even the memory of his vow made her a little lightheaded. She met his gaze, but she didn't know how to respond.

His look gentled, and he reached out to tuck her hair behind her ear. "It would be your choice, of course, whether or not you stayed with us. They would all welcome you. All of them." His eyes drifted over her face, lingering on her lips. "But if it's you who doesn't want me, you don't need to worry about that. Your will is, as ever, your own. I wouldn't dream of interfering no matter how much I wanted to."

Her lip twitched. "That's not what you said this morning."

He grimaced. "That was a mistake, and I should never have said I'd stop you." His hands clenched in fists. "It was just the idea of you being near him…"

A chill went down Bella's spine, and she shuddered. "That's not what I want."

"I know that." He turned to her. "It was never about me not wanting you in my life, Bella. If anything, that's the one positive I see." He took her hand and pressed it to his cool cheek, his expression tender. "The last thing I want—the very last thing in all the world—is to lose you. So, yes. The idea of you being immortal gives me great pleasure." His brow furrowed. "But it feels wrong to think so."

"Do you really hate your life that much?"

His answering smile was sad. "I've told you about our minds. That I can consider many different things all at the same time. It means there is never a moment that goes by that I don't remember all the horrible things I've done." He met her eyes. "And I have done horrible things, Bella. With my gift, I thought I could hunt only the wicked. I thought I could satisfy my thirst and do some good."

He looked away, his jaw tense. "The thing is, people think wicked things all the time. That doesn't make them guilty." He rolled his shoulders, as though trying to shake off the oppressiveness that permeated the car. "But I was self—righteous and cocky. And thirsty."

It took a minute for Bella to swallow down the knot in her throat. "Humans are your food, Edward," she said in a whisper. "And anyway, human beings have killed other human beings—accidentally and otherwise. If you're trying to tell me that life gets complicated, and sometimes it's awful, even for a vampire, then you're not telling me anything shocking."

He looked to her again, and after a moment, he grinned and laughed. "You're pragmatic."

She ducked her head. "The thing is… what you are is natural."

"What?" He gave her an incredulous look.

Bella rolled her eyes. "You exist in the world, Edward. You're part of nature." She took a steadying breath. "So this change is natural. None of your family had a choice in the matter. I don't see why it's a bad thing that I do."

Edward opened his mouth to answer, but then he winced. "Oh."

"What?" Bella's skin crawled, and she looked around. "Is someone—" But then she spotted her dad's truck headed down the street. "Oh."

Edward chuckled. "He's been trying to run into me for a while now."

"What? Why would my dad want to talk to you? And since when?"

His serious expression melted away entirely, and his grin turned devilish. "Since he overheard you saying my name in your sleep."

Bella's cheeks flamed. He chuckled again and reached over to run his thumb over her chin. "He worries about you."

Edward turned to get out of the car, but Bella tugged his hand. He turned back. Bella swallowed hard. "What I feel about you…" She struggled to find the right words. "It's confusing. I _feel_ so much, and so many horrible things." She wrung her hands and looked to him furtively. "But what I feel for you is… happiness and hope. It's… light. I don't know whether or not to call it love. But I know I don't want to be without you."

His eyes were fathomless. He held her gaze. Outside, Charlie slammed the door to his truck shut with unnecessary force, announcing his arrival.

When they got out of the car, and Edward came around to her side, Bella reached over and took his hand. Charlie didn't miss the gesture. His eyebrows arched.

Edward, Bella realized, had come prepared. He was wearing gloves. He extended his hand—the one not holding Bella's—to him. "Chief Swan."

In spite of herself, Bella was nervous. "Dad. You know Edward Cullen, right?"

Charlie gave Edward the once—over as they shook hands. "I'm about to know Edward a little more, now." It wasn't a question.

"Yes, sir," Edward said with a nod.

Charlie gestured for the door. "Then come in."

 _ **~0~**_

"I'm sorry he was so gruff," Bella said a couple of hours later, when she walked Edward back to his car. "He never got to do the dad thing, when I was kid, you know? I've never brought a boy home before." She smiled ruefully.

"I think he might actually kill me if I hurt you." Edward shrugged. "Well, I suppose he would try. But I'd never hurt you, so that's a moot point."

"And I'm sorry I couldn't talk him out of inviting you for dinner." Bella grimaced, knowing he'd have to throw it all up.

He wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her toward him. "It's the least of what I'd endure for you."

She smirked, wrapping her arms around him and tilting her chin up. "I don't know who told you suffering for a girl is romantic, but they're wrong. Just so you know."

He scoffed and dipped his head down, teasing her lips. "Oh, yes. How much I suffer." He kissed her once and pulled back, chuckling when she made a noise of protest. "Your father is watching."

"I'm twenty—two, man." Bella pushed onto her toes and kissed him soundly.

After a few more rather fervent kisses, Bella sighed and pulled back. Kissing him did make her unbearably happy.

Edward stroked her cheek, but after a moment, his adoring gaze faded to one of concern. "You couldn't tell him, you know. You'd have to disappear or fake your death."

Bella's heart twisted. She attempted a smile, but she knew it was half—assed at best. "My father is dating Sue Clearwater. How much you want to bet someone on the reservation spills the beans, hmm?"

He cocked his head. "You've thought of that before."

"I told you, this isn't a whim."

Edward nodded. "I can see that now. Using the wolves to divulge your secrets. It's not a bad plan, although the wolves themselves are their own problem."

"What problem?"

"Don't worry about that right now." Edward tilted her head up, looking her in the eyes. "I will help you, Bella. I promise."

Bella wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him again. Her heart was pounding too fast and her throat too tight to speak.

When she was back inside, her father was on the couch, pretending he hadn't been watching. Of course, the furrow to his brow told her all she needed to know. It was cute, really, and in that moment, she really loved her father.

She went and sat beside him, wrapping her arms around him. He gave a start of surprise, but hugged her back. Bella lay her head on his shoulder. "I know being my dad isn't easy."

"Bella—"

"It's okay. I know."

Charlie gave a grunt, but he turned his head to press a kiss to her forehead. "It's not hard, Bella. Not hard to be your dad, anyway. It's harder than hell to see you hurt the way you have. No one should…" He chuffed. "Anyway. I'm glad you can talk to him. To Edward. I don't know him very well, but Dr. Cullen is a good man, so…"

Bella lifted her head to look at her father. "It's not that I trust him with things I don't trust you with. You know that, right? He's… Well, he's been through some of the same things. He understands."

"You don't have to justify anything to me. You do what you have to do." He studied her a moment. "He makes you happy?"

"Yeah."

"And he's good to you?"

Bella smiled. "He's very good to me."

Charlie nodded. "You can tell your partner things you can't tell your father. I get that. It's half the point of having a partner in the first place. And not to get ahead of ourselves—too early to tell if you'll end up with Edward long term—but I'm not going to be around forever, you know? It's not a bad thing to know someone's got your back."

Bella ducked her head, hiding the anguish she knew was etched on her face. Her father wouldn't be around forever. It was possible she would lose him much sooner than he expected.

There wasn't a perfect choice. There wasn't a path that didn't involve an incredible amount of pain. She hated the idea of losing her parents. More than that, she hated the idea her parents would lose her. They'd been through the hell of losing their daughter twice now. To lose her well and truly was going to leave them bleeding.

But they were another casualty of the things that had been done to her. Their pain wasn't her fault. She couldn't live her life for anyone else. Changing her nature was the only way she could survive. There would be consequences—a price to pay.

She could only hope that one day they would understand. Ultimately, wasn't it what they wanted for her? For her to find a way to be happy again despite what she'd been through? Happy and powerful; not the frightened ghost of a girl who was too scared to even leave her room most days.

After all, her parents had been the ones to teach her from a very young age, life was neither easy nor fair. Happily didn't exist ever after, but in moments and minutes.

* * *

 **A/N: Things are happening.**


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: I'm at Disneyland! I'm going to beg Mina to post for me. (Like she ever needs to beg —Mina)  
**

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It was an interesting game.

Tactician that he was, Jasper needed facts. The boy could read minds, but surely that gift wasn't limitless. His own gift had many limitations. He had better, though not perfect, control when he he could see his subject. He could feel emotions at a much greater distance but that did little good when he couldn't pin down where they were coming from. He needed to figure out just how far the boy's mind-reading capabilities extended.

Now was the time for reconnaissance. He tested the lines almost every day. He caught the boy's scent fainter than the others at night. He'd guessed he would spend most of his time close to her. But they couldn't be together constantly. The boy did have to feed, lest he give in to the temptation his very human love presented.

So it was the other four that patrolled at night. They were vigilant. Them and the foul-smelling creatures near the coast. Jasper had noticed that their territories didn't overlap. Not friends then, but not outright enemies either.

All very interesting.

"They can't hope to play this game forever," Jasper mused aloud to his latest friend—a Mexican lad he'd imported from Arizona. "Oh, like me, they have infinite time and patience, certainly. The variable is always your kind." He patted the boy's cheek gently.

"Get the fuck away from me," he hissed.

Jasper chuckled and continued to think out loud. It was unnerving the young man, and that, after all, was the point. "Your kind aren't as steady as mine." He drew his fingertip down the man's jaw, darting his other hand out to catch the back of his head so he couldn't draw away. He ignored the tiny whimpers and mewls the man made as he spoke. "It's not just Bella, either. They _live_ among your kind. Work with them. They _work._ " He laughed. The idea was so quaint. As though they needed the money. "The maker even cuts people open. A conflict of interest, that. I've wondered if it gives him a perverse kind of pleasure. Sadomasochism for our kind? After all, it's not as though we can feel pain in the more traditional methods."

"What the fuck are you even talking about?" the man said with a moan. "Shut up. Jesus, just shut up."

Jasper tilted his head, considering his guest. It was rude, he supposed. This man deserved his undivided attention. After all, this was for him. His life was no less valuable than Bella's. It wasn't his fault that this whole situation with Bella intrigued him more than anything had in many hundreds of years.

"I knew someone named Santiago once," Jasper said, changing the subject. That was why he'd chosen this boy. It was a whim; as good a reason as any. He shared his name with someone from Jasper's past, and he would die for it.

Well. No one said death had to have any point. It was as good a reason as any when it came right down to it.

 _ **~Edward~**_

Edward tilted his head back, listening to his father's soft voice on the other end of the phone as he watched Bella sleep.

"I think it's fairly clear he's not trying to get near the town," Carlisle said. "He skirts around the edges. I think he's gathering information, not planning anything."

"He thinks he has years to strike." Edward spoke quietly so as not to disturb Bella's sleep. She was restless tonight—tightening into a smaller ball as the hours went by. She hadn't started talking yet. "This is maddening."

"I'm sure he knows that too. If he can push us to make the first move…"

Edward huffed. "With five of us and the wolves?" He shook his head. "But you're right. Doubtless he knows how to handle us if we were to rush in without a plan or any organization. Although, how do we plan assuming he has the future-teller on his side?"

"Well, we have a meet with the wolves tomorrow night. We'll see if we have any ideas collectively. I'm not sure if Sam and the pack would be amenable to expanding their territory for a time. Pinning him down has proven to be difficult so far."

"Right, and he hasn't killed anyone in Washington that we can figure since Tyler." Edward paused a beat. "Carlisle, do you think he would stop if we changed her? Do you think he'd leave her alone?"

"You'd know his mind better than I would. Her being a vampire is what he wanted though."

"On his own terms."

"Yes, on his own terms. Though, it would seem to me a being as old as he is understands that life doesn't often happen on our own terms." Carlisle paused, and his next words were careful. "Although, I do think leaving Bella without a possibility of defending herself—"

"That battle is won." Edward let his eyes trace the rise and fall of Bella's precious breaths, knowing each of them was numbered. "I just wish it wasn't in reaction to this. If she's to be changed, I wish it wasn't out of fear."

"In an ideal world, my son. Though, in an ideal world…"

"We wouldn't exist."

His father chuffed. "I don't think I've met a vampire who would exist if not for some kind of violence or injustice. Yet goodness too has come out of our lives."

Edward considered this. Esme would never have known love as truly and unconditionally as Carlisle gave it to her had it not been for her vampiric life. "As Emmett says, you may wish in one hand and crap in the other, and see which fills up first." The world was never going to be exactly as it should.

Carlisle laughed. "Emmett does have a way with words when he puts his mind to it."

Edward hung up then, thanking his father one more time before he did. He returned his attention to Bella and frowned.

She was hunched all the way over, her knees drawn up to her chest and her head tucked down. Her brow was furrowed, the skin around her eyes creased. Her heartbeat had picked up speed. Edward stood and crossed the room to kneel by her bedside.

"No, no." She mouthed the words at first, but they got louder quickly. "Get away from me. Get your hands off me," she growled through gritted teeth. "Don't." This word was more a plea. "Please. No. No."

"Bella?" he called to her, fingers hovering above her cheek. He didn't want to make her nightmare worse by touching her when she didn't want to be touched.

"Don't hurt me. Please. Please, someone help me. Please," she whispered brokenly.

That did it. Edward had to get her out of her nightmares even if it meant she was afraid of him for a moment. He pressed his palm to her cheek, calling her name. Sure enough, she flinched away from his touch.

"Get away," she snarled. "Don't touch me."

"Bella, wake up." He caught her flailing hand. She cried out quietly, but her eyes came open. She blinked, not focusing right away.

"My dad's a cop. He'll have your ass. He'll have all your asses," Bella said, her voice trembling. "All of them. I hope you fry."

Edward stroked his thumb along her jaw. "Wake up, sweetheart. It's just me. I promise I won't hurt you."

She blinked several more times, and when she didn't try to pull away from him, he climbed into her bed. He pulled her into his arms and she buried her face at his chest, crying quietly.

Edward trailed his fingers along her hot cheeks and brow. It wasn't long before she calmed. She sniffled and lifted her head. He took her face in his hands, cooling the rest of her face and wiping away the remnants of her tears. She smiled—a small, tired smile, and rested her head on his chest again. She picked up his hand and played with his fingers.

"My dad taught me how to throw a punch," she said, her voice rough. "When they surrounded me...the guys in Port Angeles, I mean. When they surrounded me, I punched one of them right in the nose. It was a good punch."

"I believe that," he said, tracing the spot behind her ear.

She sighed. "For a second, when I saw the blood on his face and watched him fall backward, I felt powerful."

Edward tensed, because he knew what was coming next. He also knew he couldn't react. He couldn't make it about him; couldn't make it her responsibility to calm him down.

"They punished me for that one second of power," she said.

Edward rested the back of his hand against her chest. "I was listening to your heartbeat earlier, and I was wondering how many you had left." He tilted his head, nuzzling the top of hers. "It makes me sad to think about not hearing that sound again." He threaded his fingers through hers. "But I'm glad your nightmares are numbered too."

She huffed. "The end of nightmares." She shifted backward, putting some distance between them so she could look him in the eyes. He rolled onto his side, resting his hand on her waist. "Do you miss sleeping?" she asked.

He smirked. "You know...I did mushrooms once. Shrooms."

Bella's eyebrows shot toward her hairline. He laughed. It was nice to scandalize her for once. "It was a trip. Bright colors. And I thought I could fly."

"So you miss drugs."

"I suppose I miss the possibility of drugs. And dreams. I could fly in my dreams too, if I recall."

"You can scale a tree in seconds." She smirked at him. "And you run about as fast as a crow flies."

"Faster, I should think."

"And I bet the crow gets tired."

After a moment, the grin on her face faded, replaced by a contemplative look. He crooked a finger under her chin, looking at her questioningly. When she tilted her head invitingly, he pressed his lips to hers. Her hand came up to cup the back of his neck, and he shivered in pleasure. The warmth was so good, especially with her lips moving against him.

"Are you still going to help me?" Bella asked, the sound of her voice vibrating where their lips touched.

"Mm. I said I would, if that's still what you want." He didn't want to think about it. Not when she was in his arms like this. "We can talk about it tomorrow. How. When."

"I have two requests."

He sighed and pulled back slightly. Okay, so they were going to talk about it now. He was surprised to find she looked anxious somehow. Or was it nervous. He brushed her hair back. "There's nothing I'd deny you, Bella. Not if it's in my power to give." Possibly she was self-conscious because she had some fancy idea about how to be turned. It was a unique opportunity, after all.

Carlisle had bitten him right on the side of that lonely road where he'd crashed. He'd examined all of Edward's injuries, seen that his wounds would kill him before an ambulance could get up the mountainside. So he'd stopped the worst of the bleeding with venom, and that had been that. There was no romanticism in that transition.

"I want you to be the one," Bella said in a whisper.

Edward froze. He was absolutely still for ten full, long seconds while Bella squirmed, looking down. Finally, he breathed, inhaling her scent. This time, for a fraction of a moment, he let himself revel in the tantalizing smell. She smelled so good, so delicious, that he felt almost dizzy. Venom pooled in his mouth. "Oh, Bella."

"I don't know how it works," she said in a rush. "If it makes you responsible for me or whatever. If there—"

"Being responsible for you would be the least of my worries," he said wryly. "There's no mandate or official rule. It's considered bad form to abandon someone you turn. Waking up as a vampire is very confusing, and newborns are particularly volatile. The risk is exposure. If a new vampire—all instinct and strength—woke near a populated place without a sire to control him, it wouldn't likely end well.

"As it is, though, there's no question you'll have me and my family by your side." He grimaced and traced her features with his fingertip. "It's just that there's something I haven't told you."

Her eyes narrowed. "Something else?"

"Yes, well. Until this moment it was somewhat of a personal problem." He flexed his arms around her, protective of her even against himself. "If I'd thought I was a risk to you, I never would have let myself be around you at all. Although, I suppose nothing is a guarantee."

"A risk?"

Edward studied her a moment, wondering that she didn't look frightened. Of course she didn't. She had such trust in him. The last thing he wanted was for her to be afraid of him. As though she needed more to fear. "Do you remember the first time you walked into the bookstore?"

Her look turned wary. "When I thought you looked at me like you wanted to kill me? And I thought I was just being a delusional basketcase." Her eyes narrowed. "Which I told you. My friend."

Edward winced. "Bella…"

"It's okay," she said more softly. "I understand as much as I'm going to. You couldn't tell me you were a vampire." Her eyes met his, and he could see trepidation there. A smidge, but present. "Are you going to tell me you really did want to kill me?"

"Want to? No. Or, I suppose I was of two minds. My rational mind didn't want that." Tentatively, he sought her hands, taking them in his. "As you know, I'd prefer not to kill any human, but you? You were already precious to me. I already felt responsible for what happened to you. What that bastard did to you. For me to be responsible for your death?" He shook his head. "No, that wasn't what I wanted.

"But, of course, I didn't hear you coming. The last thing I would have expected was for you to walk in my door." He brought her hands to his lips and kissed her cooling skin. "We've talked about what life's like for all of us. Like we're drug addicts, surrounded by every wonderful drug. We can smell it in the air, and we can't have it.

"This base part of myself is all animal. All instinct. And in that moment, I was a ravenous beast."

"And I was a really juicy piece of steak?"

"That was a horrible comparison. I don't want to think of you that way, but—"

"It's accurate. That's what you've been trying to tell me, isn't it? There _is_ a part of you that's not civilized. Unthinking. Unfeeling."

He closed his eyes, aching. "Yes. I keep the beast tightly tethered but the smell of your blood." He sighed and dipped his head to breathe in her scent. "The smell of your blood had me undone in a fraction of a moment."

"Mine in particular?"

He opened his eyes. "I've wondered about that. You said before that your life is wrapped up in this. In vampires. I wondered if there was something to it. I've never encountered someone who smells the way you do to me."

"Are you telling me I'm a vampire magnet? That...well, that sounds like my life." She eyed him. "Though if it gets me you…"

He snorted. "Bella, it makes it difficult for me not to eat you."

She cupped his face. "You're not going to eat me."

"No. No, I'm not." He kissed her then and brushed the tip of his nose against hers. "Why are you being so blasé about this?"

"Because it makes sense to me."

He quirked an eyebrow. "The fact that there's a part of me that really, _really_ wants to kill you makes sense to you?"

"Yes. Different species means a different context. That's not exactly a new concept." She pursed her lips, considering. "You know how you always hear those news stories? Whales at Seaworld attacking their trainers? Domesticated pets that one day turn on their owner? It always irritates me when people are so shocked. Animals aren't human. You can't expect an animal to act the way you think it should." She huffed. "Hell, you can't even expect a human to act the way you think they should, but you understand what I mean." She tickled the underside of his chin, for as little good as it did her. "I told you. You're natural. You're a part of the natural world. It's common sense to figure that a different species will be different."

Edward laughed. He gathered her closer to him, chortling against her shoulder while she ran her fingers through his hair. "I do love you, Bella."

"Yes, well." She sighed—a contented sound as he started to kiss her neck lightly. "For the record, I still trust you. I still want it to be you. I'm willing to take that risk, but I'd understand if you weren't comfortable with it." She paused. "Would Carlisle mind? It's such an awkward request."

"No, I don't think he'd mind. Refreshing, I think, to turn someone who consented. He's always felt awful about that part." Edward raised his head. He rolled over and held himself above her on his elbows. She sucked in a breath, but she was calm as she stared up at him. "You said there were two things you wanted," he said, peppering soft kisses along her cheek and the bridge of her nose. "What was the second thing? What else do you want?"

She caught his face. She was nervous again; her eyes troubled. Her heartbeat picked up at an erratic pace. "You," she said.

He furrowed his brow, not understanding what that meant. Then, her hands drifted along his neck, down his sides, and then, to his astonishment, around to caress his ass. He froze again. She looked scared and guilty, but she took another deep breath. "I want to feel you. All of you." Her hands moved over him, as though exploring, and though her breath stuttered, she met his eyes again. "I want to have that one time as a human. I want one time where it's my choice. I want you."

For the first time in his immortal life, Edward was quite literally stunned.

* * *

 **A/N: Shout out to Belle, who is sitting in front of me right now...even though she won't read this for another month. It's 12/6, Belle...what day is it when you read this?**


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. Heheh**

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"I don't know," Bella said. "I don't know what I think about sex. What they did to me…" Her throat threatened to close off, and she had to close her eyes. "I never really associated that with sex. It was all pain—blood and violence."

She shuddered, a wave of dizziness crashing over her. She jumped a little when his cold hands touched hers, but quickly gripped his fingers. She breathed in through her nose and out again. "I'm sure I thought about sex before in that vague way. It's impossible to escape thinking about sex when you're in high school, but it was all so mythical. Stories too over-the-top to be believed being told by kids who still giggled and blushed when they talked about private parts."

The bed dipped as Edward shifted. She felt him move so he was behind her. He caressed her hair, and she tilted her head into his touch. "Afterward, I had so much more to think about besides whether or not I'd ever have sex," she said in a whisper. "Everything else was bigger than that—more important. Getting my body to work again, and my mind…" She swallowed hard. "It took a while to learn how to function with a broken mind. Then people. I couldn't trust anyone to pass within ten feet of me. Sex… There are so many other ways a person can hurt me before it ever got to sex."

Edward looped his arms in a loose circle around her waist and kissed her crown. He pulled her gently back against him, and she felt his nose against her neck. She stiffened as a flash of memory shot through her. She remembered the monster crushing her against him; his teeth sinking into her flesh.

"Talk to me." The words came out in a rush, tripping over each other, and her breath quickened. "Don't let me go. Just talk to me." She didn't think she was going to panic, and she didn't want him to stop. She just didn't want her memories of the demon to take hold.

"I actually think we're on the same page; not knowing what to expect," he said. He drew his fingers along the backs of her hands and threaded their fingers together as he pulled her back against his chest. "You've been a surprise to me, Bella. All of this. I wouldn't have thought the feel of your skin could be so fascinating to me."

Bella shivered, but this time it was a thrill of pleasure. She understood what he meant. This was all so new to her. Attraction. Adoration. An acute concentration on this one person. Being with Edward—the intimacy of his touch and her connection to him—was unlike anything she'd ever known. She felt giddy and dizzy with it, a happiness she had no context for.

Happiness and something else. Something that coiled deep within her, long forgotten. Or, if not forgotten, long overwritten by more pressing emotions. She was a stranger to her own body now. Once, when she was a teenager, she had explored herself with fingers, discovering heightening nerve-endings and how her body reacted to touch. Then, she'd been shown how her body could be used, broken, abused, and she didn't want to touch her marked, scarred skin anymore.

"Vampire senses are always heightened," Edward murmured in her ear. His fingers caressed hers. It was such an innocent touch and yet it made her breathless. "I don't know what to expect anymore than you do. This…to touch you, Bella. I do lust for you."

She whimpered, shocked at the visceral reaction to his simple words. Lust. Yes. That was the name for what she felt—the heady fog in her mind, the coil at her core, the awareness of him. She leaned back against him, letting him know she was still okay. She'd lost the ability to speak.

"We'll have to go very slowly." His lips ghosted against her cheek, the words vibrated on her skin. "I won't lose control with you." His tone was firm—a promise.

Bella exhaled with a shuddering breath. "I trust you," she whispered, turning her head so her nose skimmed along his neck.

He took a deep breath, and she knew he was inhaling her scent, inundating himself with it. It should have unnerved her—knowing this predator was scenting his prey, knowing it would take nothing for him to turn his head and sink his teeth into her skin. Drink her. Drain her.

Perversely, there was some thrill to that danger. She affected him, and there was a strange kind of power in that. Irrational, she knew. He had all the power, the strength. Yet because she trusted him, because she knew in her heart he would never hurt her, the idea she could stir such a passionate emotion in him thrilled her. This was desire. She ached for his touch.

And yet, she was still scared. Not of him, but of herself. Her stranger body and worse, her broken psyche. Panic could seize her in an instant, and it would hurl her away from this bed and the arms of her friend, her protector, her lover. She knew in the space of a breath, she could be back in the alley, or in the dark basement with the monster lurking above. She'd come back to herself shattered and devastated and terrified.

"Bella."

"I'm okay," she said, but her voice shook, her tone high-pitched. She took a deep breath, steadying herself. She rested a tentative hand on his knee. "It's going to be tricky for both of us. That's okay."

He rested his hands on her belly lightly. "And you'll tell me, right? If I do something wrong or something you don't like?"

"I promise."

He shifted and, oh so achingly slowly, began to touch her. Bella didn't know which sensation to concentrate on. His fingers sent thrills down her spine as he trailed them down her sides with a feather-light stroke. Though he only touched her over her shirt, her skin seemed hyper-sensitive and alive, her every nerve ending sparking.

But even more overwhelming was the way he surrounded her. He was everywhere—his chest firm against her back and his arms and legs bracketing her, encasing every inch of her. She waited for claustrophobia to set in, but it didn't. For those few moments, he was her world. The feel of him engulfed her. She could smell him, could hear him. In this world made for two, everything was beautiful and nothing hurt.

His hand came up, and he pressed a palm carefully over her heart, doubtlessly feeling her erratic heartbeat. "Tell me what you're thinking." The rumble of his voice sent another delightful shiver down her spine. Her nipples, only millimeters from his fingers, tightened, and she gasped at the feeling.

"Uh…" Her cheeks flushed, and she knew she must be bright red. So stupid to be embarrassed, and she had no idea what she was thinking besides that. A lot. Too much, and nothing at all. It really depended on the moment. "You're cold." The words tumbled out almost at random.

Immediately, he moved as though to pull his hands back and away from her. She held him fast by the wrist. "No. That's not what I meant." He stilled, and Bella warred with herself. She felt like an inexperienced teenaged girl who couldn't even say dirty words without blushing, but curiosity got the better of her. "I was just wondering if… You know…"

He let a few seconds go by before he prodded. "I don't know. What are you wondering?"

She huffed, irritated because she wanted to squirm in his hold. She huffed again and then spoke in a rush. "I was wondering what it would feel like to have you inside me." She sucked in a breath and let it out. "Because of the cold."

At her clumsy words, she covered her face with her hands, ducking forward with a groan. He chuckled, the sound incredulous, and Bella had to stop herself from groaning again. He wrapped his arms around her, rocking her as he continued to laugh. "I'm sorry." He raised his head against hers. "I'm just laughing because it was one of the first things I thought of when you first asked me."

"You did?"

"Yes."

In one smooth movement, he'd repositioned them so she lay on her back on the bed and he was propped on one arm on his side. He drew lazy circles on her belly, his smile adoring as he gazed down on her. "I was thinking a hot tub might work nicely. My skin wouldn't be too cold in the hot water." His eyes met hers and something that made her breathless flashed in them. His fingers stroked lower—just below her belly button. "Foreplay wouldn't be a problem for me."

Bella's breath whined, and she pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth. His grin widened and he ducked his head close to hers. "I don't need to breathe," he said, and the alluring smell of his breath wafted over her. "And the hot water doesn't bother me."

With a moan, Bella pushed up and claimed his lips. She cupped the back of his head, bringing him down for a fervent kiss. It was a very thorough kiss, and when he pulled away with a groan, she blinked in confusion. His hand still rested on her belly, but he'd sat up, and his eyes were closed. He wasn't breathing.

"Are you okay?" she asked, and he laughed.

"Am I okay?" He rubbed a hand over his eyes. "I hope you don't think I'm being patronizing when I say I'm amazed by how brave you are."

She furrowed her brow. "Brave?"

"Unbelievably, and for a lot of reasons." He sighed, dropping his hand and looking at her. "I'm terrified." He traced a finger along the curve of her cheek. "I'm so scared of letting go. Letting myself drown in what I feel for you."

Tentative, she took his hand and brought it to her mouth, kissing him. "Take it slow?" she asked.

His smile gentled and he lay beside her. "Slow," he agreed, and he kissed her, his hand trailing along her side as he did.

 **~0~**

Bella couldn't stop smiling as she came home from lunch with Edward a couple of days later. She hummed along with the music on the radio and laughed at herself.

This was ridiculous. She was ridiculous right now. She was buoyant and…

In love. Oh, hell. Yes, she was in love.

Edward often said he wished he didn't have a vampiric mind; that he couldn't think of a million things all at once. Bella decided she'd have to tell him next time she saw him that he was delusional. Humans didn't think about one thing at a time. The problem with being human was that her brain couldn't process all the different things she had to think about, so mostly, she was just a confused mess.

Right then, love and terror dominated her world. Of course she was terrified. She had a vampire stalker, for fuck's sake. She was surrounded by beings that could break her with their pinky without breaking a sweat. Hell, they couldn't sweat. She was only too aware that they could be anywhere at any time, moving too fast for her to run.

At the same time, holy crow, she was in love. New love was so consuming. She replayed every tiny little detail—his smile, his laugh, the insightful thing he'd said over lunch. He was just so...

Bella's smile fell when she saw an unfamiliar car in the driveway. Charlie was home, but he had guests. Her heart began to pound, and suddenly it was no contest. The enormity of the love she felt for Edward was pushed to the background, and anxiety took hold. What if Charlie had brought a monster home?

But then, Charlie was seeing a woman from the reservation. Bella had met Sue, of course. This was probably her car. Bella had always been already home—as per usual—when she came over. She wasn't a monster, but Edward had said she knew about them; knew Bella hung out with a vampire. He also said the woman was the best actress of the lot of them. Her face never betrayed what she really felt.

No worries then, Bella tried to tell herself. Besides, one of the other Cullens had to be close by. She knew they watched her when Edward wasn't with her. She felt bad about that, but it was the only reason she wasn't out of her mind with fear. Edward had assured her that Jasper was a methodical being without a sense of urgency. He _would_ strike, but only when he was sure of his plan. He was much more likely to take a year over a day making his next , having no supernatural abilities of her own—no way to hear him coming or smell how close he'd come—Bella relied on the others to be her eyes and ears.

She was tempted to call to them. Her skin crawled with anxiety over entering the house and yet she was beginning to feel too exposed out here in her driveway too. She gripped her cell phone, aching to call Edward. She'd feel so much better if he was there.

No. She could deal with this. She had to be braver than that. She wouldn't be afraid of her father's house.

Bella got out of the car. She ducked her head, purposefully not looking at the dark woods that always looked so full of lurking monsters. She tested the knob. The door was unlocked. She went in.

Not Sue.

Bella sucked in a breath and took a step backward, pressing herself against the closed door when she saw who was there. Charlie's friend Billy Black and his son.

His son, another monster.

His son, whose eyes were narrowed and fixed on Bella. He looked like a man with a bone to pick.

Charlie stood up and went to her, effectively blocking her view of Jacob Black. She blinked sporadically and sucked in a breath as she looked up at her father. He gave her an apologetic smile. "You didn't get my message?"

"I...no." Bella's voice came out breathy

Charlie nodded. "Billy and Jacob dropped by with some fish fry for dinner."

"Okay." Bella ducked her head, clenching her hands in fists at her side. The urge to run was nearly overwhelming. "I'll be upstairs."

Keeping her head down, she darted quickly around Charlie and up the stairs. Her quaking legs held her only long enough to get inside her room and close the door. She sank against it, her breath coming in staccato pants as she rested her forehead against the cool wood.

Could he smell her fear like a dog? Could he hear her quick breaths? Why hadn't she asked Edward for more information? She was so focused on all things vampire, but they weren't the only superhuman beings around. She needed to know everything.

Not that it mattered. She was helpless.

It was a long time before she could push herself up off the ground. She stumbled across the room and sat at her desk chair. She lay her head on the desk, trying to convince herself not to call Edward. She was overreacting, and she knew it. And maybe a little bit of a hypocrite. Why did it bother her so much that this random kid was a shapeshifter? He unnerved her, but almost everyone did.

She just needed to know she had a fighting chance.

No sooner had she calmed herself down than there was a knock at her door. She jumped, startled. The knock came again, and again, even though she was staring at the door, she jumped. Her heartbeat was erratic. "What is it?" she managed to call to her father.

"Can I come in?"

Bella's blood ran cold. That wasn't her father. That was Jacob Black. She stood up and pressed herself against the furthest corner of the room.

"Look, Charlie went to the market to get beer," Jacob said. "I know you know about me, and I know about you. I just want to talk to you."

Fear held her in a rigid grasp. She was alone in the house? Charlie had left her alone in the house with this boy, this man, this monster? "Go away."

"You don't have to be scared of me. This is important."

Bella swallowed, wanting to tell him he could fuck the hell off. She was shaking too badly to get the words out. She heard him huff and then, to her horror, her door opened.

"Look, I—"

"Get out. Stay the fuck away from me." She was cornered. Her eyes flew around the room, looking for anything she could use to defend herself. All the while a voice chanted in her head that there was nothing. He could do anything he wanted. Anything.

He narrowed his eyes. "Will you calm down? I'm not going to hurt you." He huffed. "I'm not a damn vampire."

"I know what you are," Bella said, pleased when her voice came out as a snarl instead of a whine. She wrapped her arms around her shoulders, trying to keep a clear head and about to fail miserably.

"And I know where you've been," he retorted. "You reek of _him._ "

At that, Bella's anger flared. "What business of it is yours?" He took a step forward and instantly she backed up against the wall, hitting herself hard against it. "Get back! Get out!"

"I'm not the bad guy here." He stepped forward again.

"I swear to Christ, if you take another step, I'm going to fucking kill you." Her voice shook as she spoke without thinking, but it was low like a hiss. "It's the first thing I'll do. I'll rip you to shreds."

His eyes went wide. "So it is true." He came forward then, and Bella screamed. She tried to dart away, but he grabbed her by the arms and gave her a shake. "Are you out of your goddamned mind? You—"

But then, he was flying—literally flying—across the room. He crashed into the opposite wall, shattering her bookshelf to pieces. He jumped almost instantly to his feet, and it seemed to Bella like he was vibrating. Shimmering. She screamed again.

"You need to calm down," an even voice said.

That was when Bella registered that Carlisle Cullen stood now between her and Jacob, his hand out in a stopping motion toward the fierce looking man. She lurched forward, clinging to his free arm out of instinct and hiding herself partially behind him.

"Keep control of yourself," Carlisle said, and Bella realized Jacob was about to...what was the word Rosalie had used? Fursplode? "I'm not a threat to you as long as you keep your distance."

"Get the fuck away from her," Jacob snarled between clenched teeth.

"That isn't happening," Carlisle replied, still calm as ever. "This isn't your territory, Jacob Black, and beyond that Bella asked you more than once to leave."

"Like hell I will. What have you and your demon spawn done to her that she's scared of _me_ and can even stand to touch you?"

"He hasn't done anything to me, asshole," Bella said, her voice coming out in jerking halts.

"I'm the asshole?" Jacob huffed again.

"You're alone in a house with a woman you barely know. In her room. You grabbed her without her permission, when she's obviously scared of you, and you were shaking her." Carlisle cocked his head. His tone hadn't raised an iota. "Son, not to be rude, but are you stupid?"

Jacob scowled, but he turned his gaze to Bella. "They made a treaty. They're not supposed to bite a human. They're not supposed to take a life. I came here to save you."

"It's not up to you," Bella yelled, taking one tiny step to the side to glare at Jacob even though she kept a firm grip on Carlisle. "This is my life. I don't even know you. You don't get to pretend you care about me."

"I do care. I—"

"Bull-fucking-shit."

"I don't know what they promised you, but you can't do this. They're monsters. Don't you see that?"

"You need to leave. Now." Carlisle's voice was no less steady but several degrees cooler. "Bella's already told you that your presence and your...advice is unwelcome. I don't know what it is you think is going on, Jacob, and I can't say I care. We've spoken with Sam, and your elders have made their decision. I mean you no harm, but I can promise you that you won't threaten my family."

"Your family." Jacob said the words scathingly. "You think she's yours."

"I think you're not welcome here."

"Carlisle." Bella tugged on his arm for as little good as it did her. "Let's go. Can we leave?"

Carlisle hesitated a beat.

"Please?" she asked, needing to be away from this house and Jacob Black. "Now."

Without another word, Carlisle wrapped an arm around her waist. He had her securely in his arms, and was sailing out the window he'd come in before she could blink.

* * *

 **A/N: Merry Holidays to you and yours. I hope everyone who's traveling stays safe. Families aren't too stressful, and you have much love around you. To those of you who don't have a good time around the holidays, breathe deep. It's almost over.**

 **I love you all. Thank you.**


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: Hello! How's 2017 treating you?**

* * *

Carlisle had texted him two simple words: Come home. Edward made his excuses at work and hurried to his car, cursing the fact he had to use it in front of the humans. He'd have run home if he could.

Though the text hadn't specified, Edward knew this was about Bella. His father had been the one 'on duty', patrolling around her house that day so she was never alone. Edward didn't like the idea of being away from her, but he had a routine. If he suddenly quit his job, people would gossip. It wasn't a big deal, but it was critical they keep attention away from their family, especially now that a human was involved. The more people knew the truth about the Cullens—or even suspected—the likelihood the Volturi would get involved increased.

Still, the thousand horrifying scenarios racing through Edward's mind had him weighing the risk of discovery if it meant he could get to Bella sooner. He settled on driving as fast as he could.

He got as far as the deep woods surrounding the Cullen property before he could hear his father's thoughts. He saw Bella on the wet and muddy forest floor, her hands clapped over her ears and her breath coming in too-quick gasps. Carlisle knelt beside her, near but not touching her, speaking to her in soothing tones, encouraging her to breathe.

A panic attack, Edward saw, though that didn't make him feel any better. He saw that Carlisle had been running with her when she started to hyperventilate. He'd set her down, and she'd instantly curled in on herself.

Edward threw the car into park and was off like a shot through the forest. He got to them in seconds. "Bella," he said, his voice rough with emotion as he knelt near her. "It's me. I'm right here, baby."

It seemed to him that she loosened her stance just a little. Her breath hitched as though she were trying to find words around her panic. Hesitant—it would kill him to cause her more pain—Edward put a hand to her shoulder. "I'm right here. I have you." When she didn't react badly, he pulled her to him. She flung her arms around his neck, trembling hard in his arms. "I have you," he murmured again against her hair, sitting on the forest floor with her cradled against him. He started to repeat the chant that Carlisle had been saying. "Breathe in, 1-2-3. Breathe out, 1-2-3."

Over her head, he locked eyes with Carlisle, asking silently for what he needed to know. Carlisle let his memories play back.

He'd been in the forest. He knew Billy and Jacob were visiting. Jacob had run the perimeter of the house, but he must have thought Carlisle wasn't there at the moment. It was the only explanation for what he did later.

Charlie was audibly uncomfortable with leaving Bella alone with a virtual stranger. He told his guests that he knew it would make her uncomfortable if she came out of her room to find only Jacob there. But then, the likelihood Bella would come out of her room when company was around was slim to none. She'd been so obviously uncomfortable when she came home to find them there. She'd been social with Billy and Jacob before, but Charlie said he thought that had been for his sake only, and she'd needed time to prepare for that.

"I've got no reason to bother her," Jacob had told Charlie while Carlisle listened from outside.

But almost as soon as Charlie and Billy left, Jacob did exactly what he'd promised not to. It had taken Carlisle a minute to realize he'd gone upstairs. He'd listened, waiting to see if the boy would do the right thing and leave well enough alone when he saw he was unwelcomed. He didn't, of course. He came into Bella's room without permission. It had taken a few extra seconds for Carlisle to get the window open without shattering it. By the time he had, Jacob had his hands on Bella.

Rage consumed Edward. If not for the fragile human in his arms, he'd have taken off that instant. He was going to murder a dog.

 _It's her mental health he doesn't take seriously_ , Carlisle thought to Edward. _He doesn't understand trauma_.

He will, Edward vowed to himself.

 _His heart was in the right place,_ his father tried _._

It would most certainly be in the wrong place by the time Edward was through with him.

"Edward," Bella whispered against his neck, coming back to herself. She was still shaking, but a lot of the tension had drained out of her body. She sagged against him now, panting and exhausted.

"It's okay, sweetheart. I have you. I'm going to pick you up so we can get to the house, okay?"

Her fingers, tangled in his hoodie, tightened. "Your house?"

"Yeah. Yeah, of course." He was careful not to let his fury drip into his voice. The damn dog had made her afraid of her own home.

Bella nodded and rested her head against his shoulder. He was glad when she didn't argue. The panic attacks made her feel weak; he knew that. For her to let him take care of her showed a level of trust that warmed his cold, dead heart. Besides that, after the scare, he needed to have her as close as possible. The news could have been so much worse.

She was right. It was unfair to keep her a breakable human when everything around her could kill her in an instant.

"I'll go ahead," Carlisle said as Edward stood. "I'll start the fire in the living room."

Edward nodded. "Thank you."

"Thank you," Bella mumbled. She was still concentrating on breathing. Her heartbeat was fast and steady against his chest.

By the time they were to the door, Bella had started to cry quietly. Her tears were hot as fire against his cold skin. Or maybe it was just her pain that burned him. She hated this weakness—both being unable to protect herself and being unable to fight the effects of her broken psyche.

They got inside just as Carlisle stepped away from the fireplace. The others were at work, and Carlisle made himself scarce, giving Edward and Bella room. Edward sat on the rug in front of the fireplace. He took Bella's face in his hands and wiped tears away from under her eyes.

"I was powerless again," she said in a hoarse whisper. "Fucking powerless."

"Did he hurt you?" Jacob Black was going to die either way, but if he hurt her, he was going to die very slowly.

Bella shook her head. "He could have. That was enough for my stupid brain."

"It's not stupid. He was being aggressive, and he's a virtual stranger to you." Edward worked to unclench his jaw. He swallowed a mouthful of venom. "I'll kill him, Bella. I swear I will."

He could hear his father's admonitions. The boy was a hothead, but Carlisle was sure he hadn't intended for Bella to come to harm. His intentions, however misguided, had been to preserve a human life.

"I don't want you to kill him," Bella said. She sniffled and looked up at him. She was still trembling, but her color was better. There was a glint in her eyes. "If he touches me again, I want to be the one to kill him." Her gaze locked with his. "I want to be _able_ to kill him."

He searched her eyes. She had demons, and it was taking so much of her strength to fight them. "You will be, love. I promise."

She was already shaking her head. "Now. I don't want to wait. There's no point. There's a damn werewolf in my house. I should be able to do something about that."

"Bella, we need to—"

"You don't need to plan. None of you were planned and you're here." There was a note of barely contained panic to her voice. "Please."

"Bella…"

She bit her lip and looked down. Her heartbeat quickened again, and she breathed deeply, trying to calm herself again. Edward rocked her gently. "It's not what you want," he murmured against her ear. "It won't be long, Bella. But remember you said you wanted time to talk to us about everything. To know everything before you're turned. The first year is confusing."

He cupped her cheeks and tilted her face up to look at him. "It's going to happen sooner than later. Two weeks, Bella. Give me two weeks to make sure we're all as prepared as we can possibly be." He caressed her hair. "Two weeks to say goodbye to your parents."

She exhaled on a breath and slumped against him again. "I'm just so tired."

"You can rest right now." He knew it wasn't what she meant, at least not entirely. But regardless, a panic attack, as strong as that one had been, took a lot out of her. "You're safe here. Sleep. I'll take care of you. I'll be right here when you wake up."

That she didn't argue spoke volumes about her exhaustion. Edward hummed a soft song near her ear. Only minutes later, her breath evened out and her body went slack with sleep.

Edward stood without jostling her. He laid her on the couch. She shivered in her sleep, cold from his touch. He darted upstairs, finding a thick, warm blanket to cover her with. He'd thought to buy a bed—the most comfortable he could find—but it was set to be delivered the next day.

Well, for the time being, she was resting peacefully enough. He stroked the back of a single knuckle down her cheek and some of the tension left on her pretty face even in sleep eased.

His father reappeared in the living room, watching him watch Bella.

 _Killing the boy is unnecessary,_ Carlisle thought to him. _We need the wolves cooperation. The treaty_ **—**

Edward growled low under his breath. "I'm not going to kill him. I promised Bella I'd let her do it."

He stood and headed for the door. Carlisle followed him, grabbing his arm. "I thought you said you weren't going to kill him."

"I won't." Edward smirked. "But if I happen to knock him into a tree...Well. I promise he'll survive."

"Edward—"

"Please watch over Bella for me. This won't take long."

Before his father could argue, Edward was out the door. He ran for the Swan house.

Interestingly enough, it was immediately apparent that Jacob hadn't let Charlie know that Bella was gone. He was nervous about it. What would Charlie think when he saw the mess of the broken bookshelf and Bella wasn't there? Edward's lip twitched. At least Jacob recognized he'd done something that would make Charlie want to kill him.

Edward toyed with the possibility of simply walking in and giving Charlie a facsimile of the truth. He could just tell them that Jacob had menaced Bella, and that he'd come to take her to his house because she didn't feel safe. It would have the added benefit of keeping Jacob away in the long term.

But that wouldn't cure the bloodlust rising in Edward.

He darted to the front door, rang the bell, and darted quickly into the cover of the forest. Charlie answered the door. When no one answered his call of, "Hello," he chalked it up to kids playing ding, dong, ditch, but the open door had wafted Edward's scent inside. Jacob knew he was there.

The boy was haughty. He knew Edward was there for him, and he was sure he could take him in a fight. Well. Edward had been unprepared for Jasper, but he would make short work of this mongrel.

Jacob tracked his scent into the forest. It didn't escape his notice that Edward had gone far enough that any noise they made wouldn't be heard by the humans. It was no surprise then when he shifted into his wolf form.

A pack of shifters might be able to take down a vampire, but the boy alone? If Edward was in a murdering mood, his cockiness would have been his death sentence.

As it was, Edward dropped down from the tree where he was perched and rushed at Jacob. He caught him in the side, and the wolf went flying, hitting a tree. He snarled and got to his feet, back raised, ready to pounce. Of course, Edward could read his thoughts and knew his moves before he made them. It was easy to dodge.

Edward played with him, letting Jacob rush him several times as he jumped up or to the side, out of the way of the wolf's deadly teeth and claws. Finally, he landed lithely on the massive back. He put his hands to Jacob's neck and squeezed—just enough pressure that the wolf yelped. Enough to let him know that if Edward had wanted him dead, he'd be dead.

Point made, Edward flung himself backward in time to avoid Jacob's twist. As he landed, Jacob raised his head to the sky and howled. Calling his pack. Almost instantly, Edward heard the double timbre of several minds within Jacob's.

"Coward," Edward growled.

He let Jacob rush him again, dodging under as he jumped for his throat. Edward grasped his ankle and squeezed. Hard.

Jacob yowled in agony. He tried to stand but his shattered ankle wouldn't hold him. He collapsed, still snarling under his breath between pained whimpers.

Edward felt no remorse. The wolf would heal without lasting repercussions. "If you had any kind of sense at all, I would have appreciated your worry for her, Jacob Black. But you need to learn a thing or two about consent. You have no concept of just how much you've hurt the woman I love."

 _Love_. The word curdled with disgust. His thoughts were full of twisted perversions of what he thought Edward was doing to Bella, what he wanted her for. He didn't think a vampire was capable of love.

Edward hissed, disgusted at Jacob's thoughts. "You test me, dog." He shook his head. The pack was approaching, and though Sam was urging calm, the others were chomping at the bit. "She's made her choice. It's Sam's inclination to respect that even if he doesn't agree. I don't give a good god damn what you think about it. Come near that house again, even look at her again, and I will end you. Believe me. Your packmates won't be quick enough to save you."

His message delivered, Edward ran back to Bella.

 _ **~Two Weeks Later~**_

It had been a long and complicated two weeks.

The pack was easily dealt with. Bella had asked to see Sam in town in neutral territory. He already knew what Jacob had done and, having a better grasp of trauma, he understood how Edward had reacted. It helped, too, that Carlisle had offered his services to set Jacob's leg—it had to be rebroken as it had healed too quickly and healed wrong.

Sam and the rest of the pack—and the elders like Billy Black—didn't like it, but they had conceded the point. Bella's will was her own. She was clear and cognizant, knowing full well what she was walking into and what she would become. The Cullens planned to take her far away to the wilderness of Alaska. She understood that they—the wolves—wouldn't hesitate to kill her if she ever came back to Forks and killed a human. They agreed they would keep an eye out for her father in case Jasper wasn't shaken after she left.

Beyond that, all the preparations that could be made had been. Bella had spent a lot of time the last two weeks with his family, talking about their experiences. She was as ready as she could be.

She'd also cajoled her father into taking a few days off work so they could spend time together. He'd done it, of course. There wasn't much Charlie Swan wouldn't do for his daughter. Edward, lurking in the woods near the house, tried to stay far enough away to give them privacy. Still, he felt Charlie's surprise at his daughter's sudden clinginess. It had been a long time since Bella could stand to be touched by anyone.

But there always had to be an end, and it was time. Now, Edward sat on Bella's bed, watching her as she sat at her desk, writing. He kept his silence though he ached for her. He'd watched her for hours now as she painstakingly wrote out two letters. One to Cynthia and her mother. One to her own mother. Now the hardest—a letter to her father.

Though she'd been stoic through the first two letters, sniffling occasionally but writing with a steady hand, starting her father's letter was Bella's breaking point. She crumpled, and Edward went to her. He picked her up and sat down so she was sitting on his lap, surrounded by him. She wept, but after a few minutes she took a shuddering breath and got back to her task.

Edward kept his arms around her waist, not stopping her. He rested his head lightly against hers, pressing the occasional kiss to her cheek as she wrote with a shaking hand.

 _Dad-_

 _You and I have never been good at words. That's always been okay with me. I've always known all the things you might have wanted to tell me. I know you love me more than anything else in the world, and I know you blame yourself for the things that have happened to me. I know you hurt for me, and I know how much you worry._

 _Please don't panic. I know what this sounds like. It's not a suicide note. In fact, it's the opposite, but I know it's also not going to be easy for you to hear. None of this is easy for me to say, but I'm going to try. I'm going to ask you to do something impossible. I'm going to ask you to trust me. You and mom have raised me to understand that only I can know what's best for my life. Trust in what you've taught me, and trust me._

 _It's going to seem like Edward is the latest in a long line of men who've hurt me. I can promise you this isn't the case. Please don't blame him, Dad. Please know that everything I'm doing is my own will and my own choice. Edward is a good man, and he loves me._

 _I wish with everything I have that I could tell you everything, Daddy. Please trust that I have a good reason that I can't. Please know that breaking your heart and hurting you will forever be the worst thing I do. I'll regret it for eternity._

 _I hope it will give you some sense of peace that I'm happy. I'm well cared for, and I'm not in danger anymore. I know you will, but please, at least try not to worry._

 _Lean on Billy. Lean on Sue. They'll help you. I know they will._

 _I wish there was another way. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry._

 _I love you._

 _Bella_

As she signed her name, she collapsed forward, sobbing into her folded arms, staining the letter with tears. Edward stood and carried her to the bed. She curled up, her legs to her chest and her face buried against Edward. She clutched him, tugging and yanking at his shirt; her agony so strong she writhed in his arms.

Edward's heart broke. He would have done anything, given anything, to take her pain away. He wanted to ask her to reconsider her decision. It couldn't possibly be the right choice if it did this to her, rocked her like this.

She cried hard. Harder even than she had when her world was spinning and she found out her one friend, the one person she trusted, was a vampire. She muffled her anguish against Edward's skin, unwilling to let her father hear. Eventually, her cries devolved into hiccups, and her voice into a hoarse cough.

"Don't let me go," she pleaded with Edward in a broken whisper.

"Never," Edward promised, kissing the top of her head as she finally fell asleep in his arms.

When she woke, her eyes were still red. She winced. He figured she had a headache, but he didn't want to get up to get her aspirin. He didn't want to let her go until he was sure she wouldn't fly into pieces.

To his everlasting surprise, she smiled. "Hi," she whispered, her voice gravelly.

"Hi," he whispered back, stroking her hair out of her face.

She ducked her head, nuzzling his neck. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry you had to see that." She sighed.

"Bella, are you—"

"I'm sure." She sighed. "It'll hurt him more to find me dead. That's all there is to it."

He pressed a long kiss to the top of her head. She really had no clue how strong she was.

She was already packed—just a suitcase of clothes and a duffle bag of books and pictures. That was what she wanted to keep from her human life. She took a long hot shower. She made her father's bed and her own. She put all three letters on top of her bed and stared.

"There's no rush, Bella," he said, wrapping an arm around her waist. "If you want more time—"

"No." She took a deep breath. "No. It's not going to get any easier." Another breath. "It's what he'd want for me. To live my life again. I haven't really been alive for five years."

She looked up at him and smiled. It was a sad smile, but a content one. "Let's go."

He leaned down and kissed her. "Okay."

* * *

 **A/N: Weeellllll. This is about to happen.**


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N: Hello, my lovelies. How are you all today?**

* * *

 **~Bella~**

Bella didn't like airports. She hated the crowds. So many people. It was bearable only because they were all in a hurry to be somewhere else. If they saw her, it was only for a moment before they were onto the next thing.

This time around, Bella was even more nervous about the security line than usual. Not that she was a security risk, of course, but there was always the chance that someone would have to pat her down. The possibility gave her anxiety every time she thought about it. Now, she had even more to worry about.

"But what happens if they try to pat you down?" Bella asked as Edward's parents drove them to SeaTac. Her eyes went wide as she gasped. "What if they put you in that hands up machine? Doesn't that work off heat? Oh, my God, they're going to send the whole of airport security after you."

Edward pressed his lips together, obviously trying not to laugh at her. "We paid extra for the short line, remember? You don't even have to take off your shoes in that line. Just a trip through the metal detector."

Bella rolled up his sleeve and poked his arm dubiously. "What _are_ you made out of, anyway?"

He smirked. "Nothing on the periodic table, but to answer what you're really asking, also nothing that would set off a metal detector." He tilted his head. "We have traveled by plane before, love."

She huffed and crossed her arms.

"Bella, I'll be able to tell if they're signaling us out. I have a few excuses that will get me out of line quickly." He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "Don't worry so much."

"It's ironic, isn't it?" Esme asked from the front seat. "The faster and more convenient travel gets, the more complicated it gets for us. There's talk of using thermal cameras to track people who have fevers. To contain the spread of exotic viruses without having to stick thermometers in people's mouths. That will be a fun challenge if and when it becomes widespread."

"Traveling was so much easier in my day," Carlisle said, shaking his head.

Edward rolled his eyes. "Carlisle, you came to America on a ship. It took you, what, half a decade to get here?"

"Or six weeks."

"That's practically the same thing."

Bella balked. "Wait. Weren't you a somewhat new immortal at that point? I mean, relatively. Stuck in a tiny space with tasty, tasty humans and, unless I'm mistaken, no animal blood in sight?"

"Whales have blood," Carlisle said, sounding far too innocent.

Esme pointed at her husband and caught Bella's eyes in the mirror. "What did I tell you? Stubborn."

"There was never any danger," Carlisle said. "If it had been too much, I would have just accidentally fallen overboard and swam the rest of the way."

"Like you do," Bella muttered.

Edward threaded his fingers through hers, and Bella calmed considerably at the simple touch. His smile warmed her. "The next time you need to get somewhere, you can run. Or swim." His grin widened. "How about we run to the Arctic, hmm? We can slide across a glacier. If we hunt a polar bear, Emmett will be very jealous."

Bella hadn't yet wrapped her mind around the things she'd be capable of. She knew when he said they could run to the Arctic and slide across glaciers, he meant it. "A-aren't polar bears endangered?"

The other three in the car did laugh then, and Bella flushed. Edward put an arm around her and pulled her closer to him. "Arctic foxes?" he asked. "Penguins?"

"But...they're...penguins." Surely some things were too cute to eat. She looked at him with accusing eyes. "Have you eaten penguins?"

He laughed again and kissed her.

An hour and a half later, Bella let out a whoosh of air, finally relaxing as she settled into her spacious, first class seat. For all she hated airports, she actually did love flying. She leaned over Edward, watching in fascination as the ground got further away.

"I still don't understand why you didn't take the window seat," Edward said in a soft murmur. His cool fingers traced gentle patterns along her scalp.

"I like this better." Bella readjusted herself, finding a comfortable spot with her head on his shoulder and her arm draped over him.

He gave a small huff of laughter and pressed a kiss to her crown. "Me too."

They lay like that for minutes, Edward playing with her fingers as they watched the land race by beneath them in patterns of green with scattered, patchwork cities.

Did the demon know she was gone yet, as he'd known when she left Forks for Seattle before? Was he even now running through those woods, knowing somehow where to find her? Bella shuddered at the thought and closed her eyes tightly.

"Bella?" Edward asked. He stroked her hair back from her ears. "What's wrong?"

She took a deep breath, reminding herself of what Edward had assured. They were traveling under different names. There was no way for the demon to guess their final destination. "I'm okay," she said, frustrated.

Her moods, these last two weeks, had been swinging wildly. She was sanguine with her choice, but it wasn't that simple. She was terrified the demon would find her before they could carry out their plans, sure that she could never be as strong as she wanted. Between fear, nervousness about the change, and the raw nerve that was her sorrow over leaving her parents brokenhearted, she'd been a bit of a wreck off and on.

The flight attendants came by then, asking if they wanted anything to drink. Bella ordered a coffee, needing the warmth and comfort. Edward asked for a bottled water, which she knew he would keep for her.

By the time the attendant came back with their drinks and snacks, Bella's mood had swung again, and she grinned at her own inner monologue. Edward quirked an eyebrow at her in question. "I was just thinking it was a good thing we didn't have to go through customs," she said. "What's the nature of your visit? Vampirization." She wrinkled her nose. "Vamprification?"

She curled up against him again, enjoying the rise and fall of his chest as he laughed. "You know what I was thinking?" she asked, her eyes on the world below again.

"I never do," he said wryly.

"When I'm all vamped up, I want to teach you all to fight." She stroked his chest idly, lips quirked as she considered. "It couldn't be that different. The pressure points probably won't work, but I don't know. It wouldn't hurt if you got kicked in the nuts, would it?"

When seconds had gone by and he didn't answer, Bella raised her head. He stared back at her with a strange look in his eyes. "What?" she asked, self-conscious.

"You want to teach us to fight?"

She looked back at him, searching his features and wishing she could read _his_ mind. "That's one of the problems, right? None of you are trained to fight at all. Even Emmett has more of a drunken boxing style than anything. If he was human, I could kick his ass because fighting isn't about brute strength."

"I...I suppose that makes sense." He tilted his forehead against hers. "I don't like thinking about you being near him."

Bella shuddered. "Like I want him near any of you." She turned her head so her lips were near his ear. "It doesn't end just because I'm unbreakable. It's not about vengeance either. Maybe he'll lose interest once I'm not human, but there's no guarantee. Either way, I'm the same person I've always been. If I can protect myself and everyone I love, I will."

 **~Edward~**

Edward wasn't a virgin. He'd been in his twenties when he died—a young and handsome man in a time of free love. He was no stranger to women's bodies and acts of pleasure.

However, with Bella, everything was different. He felt fresh and new again—untried. He was both eager and uncertain. His heart would have thrilled with nerves every time he and Bella began to explore each other. He was scared. Not the horrible kind of terror. He simply didn't know what to expect of himself, and above all, he didn't want to hurt Bella.

Over the last few weeks, they'd spent so much time in her bed, going slowly and exploring each other with fingers and mouths. Bella's biggest problem wasn't fear but shame. She'd been so ashamed of the scars that littered her body. And they were terrible. Not because they deformed her, but because of the story they told about the things she'd been through.

He'd listened first, letting her hide her face against his neck when she asked if he could read her body the way Jasper had. She'd told him how the bastard's words had made her feel naked and ugly. Edward, too, could read what was carved into her skin, but it wasn't hard. Her scars told a heartbreaking story. Rather than admit that, though, he touched her tenderly, and running his fingers over the ridges. He held her in his arms, his lips against her ear and told her how beautiful she was, and how it felt to be able to touch her like this. And when her shaking had subsided he'd worshiped every inch of her skin.

It wasn't long before he'd been able to put his mouth on her. The heat of her was incredible, but even more so was her taste. It was her essence, the heady scent that surrounded him whenever he was around her, without the desperate thirst of her blood. He flicked his tongue rapid and quicker than a snake against her clit, and she'd gripped his hand so hard when she came, she'd have broken a human man's fingers. She'd been scared, she admitted. To orgasm meant to hand over a certain amount of control over her body, but as long as he was with her, she would trust.

Now, Edward had all the time in the world and only Bella to think about. They were in Alaska, in a remote cabin he'd rented—a place that specialized in complete solitude. There wasn't another cabin for a mile through the woods and snow.

Bella had been exhausted by their long journey by the time they'd reached their destination. She'd had just enough energy to gawk, wide-eyed, at the luxurious cabin before she flopped face down on the obnoxiously big bed and was asleep in minutes.

He'd spent a little too much time staring at her as she slept. Her human days, he'd promised, we're numbered, and soon these precious moments would be taken from him. Somehow, he'd given her the gift of untroubled sleep, and so more often than not when he was there, her face was untroubled as she dreamed. And then was the thrill, and the marrow-deep welling of emotion when she murmured his name.

Sometime before dawn, Edward finally convinced himself to go hunt. He was taking no chances today. When he got back to the cabin, he was disappointed but not surprised to find Bella was awake.

He found her in the opulent room just off the bathroom. There was a long counter with an equally long mirror. The middle of the room was occupied by the fanciest hot tub Edward had ever seen—pristine and inviting with plenty of curved seats.

Bella was seated with her back against the pillar that bisected a wall that was almost all window. The bench she was on was built in for exactly this purpose—to stare out at the sweeping, snow covered vista. She was dressed in a simple white robe, her knees drawn up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. Her bare toes drummed idly on the bench.

For long seconds, he let himself stare. She was so small against the huge window, and yet for him, she always loomed large. This woman who had altered his very being; reshaped his stone heart.

Edward turned on the hot tub jets and saw her catch her breath, her shoulders straightening. She remembered then, what he'd told her about his plan for the hot tub.

She didn't turn as he stepped toward her. When he was close enough, the sun glinted off his skin, and she opened her palm in front of her to catch the sparkle. He saw her lips curve up in a gentle smile as her heartbeat began to calm. He sat beside her, facing her with his legs angled toward the room, and put his hand in her outstretched one.

"It's so beautiful here," she said with a sigh, turning his hand over and back again, playing with the sunlight. "And peaceful."

He drew his finger along the curve of her face. The sunlight played with her skin too, kissing it in a way that was singularly human and very lovely. "It is beautiful," he murmured, looking at her.

She flushed and tilted her chin. Knowing an invitation when he saw one, Edward leaned in and pressed the barest hint of a kiss against her lips. When he pulled back, she followed him, and Edward kissed her in earnest. She wrapped her arm around the back of his neck and he spread his hands wide against her back.

For minutes, there was nothing but this. Their lips moved together—hers pliant and his unyielding. Her fingers played with his hair, her tiny moans vibrated against their lips. He traced the shape of her over her robe, pulling her closer to him.

When she shivered, he pulled back enough to look at her. He kissed the tip of her nose. "Do you want to get in the water?" His voice was huskier than he'd meant it to be. He would swear his own heart was about to start beating again if only to keep up with hers. He cupped her cheek, forcing lightness into his tone. "Or we can get breakfast." There was no reason to rush, after all. Just because the thought of touching her, of having her made him _want_ to the point of pain didn't mean he couldn't wait.

She took a shuddering breath, her lust-dark eyes on him. Holding his gaze, she pulled back her robe and let it slide off her. Edward couldn't stifle his groan before it slipped out. She was nude underneath. Ready for him.

Edward pressed his lips to hers again, railing against his every instinct to ravage. Oh, he wanted her. Wanted to be inside her, with her arms and legs around him. He wanted her with the same consuming fervor he'd thirsted for her blood.

More, he realized. What he felt for her—desire and passion and a powerful love—was stronger than the thirst for her blood. Stronger than his base, animal craving.

Skimming his fingers along her sides, he kissed her lips, her cheek. He used his nose to bump her chin, and when she tilted her head back, he pressed an open mouth kiss to her throat, right at her pulse point. She whimpered and arched her body up to press against his. He released his hold on her for fractions of seconds, shedding the few clothes he had on before he gathered her against him.

When she shivered again, Edward scooped her up into his arms and, his lips claiming hers again, carried her into the hot tub. He sat, settling her so she was seated between his spread legs. He wrapped his arms around her, his fingers tracing the undersides of her knees as he kissed the side of her hair.

Bella let out a shaky laugh, resting back against him.

"What is it?" he asked. He carefully wrapped his lips around his teeth before he took the lobe of her ear in his mouth.

"Oh," she said on a breath. Her hands gripped at his knees. "I...It's warm. Like you…" She sighed. His fingers had begun to trace circles up and down her inner thighs. "Like you said."

"Mmm." He hummed, his lips just under her ear now. He blew icy breath against her skin. "Not cold at all, hmm?"

"Oh, hell. I don't...I don't know. Just...More."

He hooked his feet in between hers and nudged, spreading her legs slowly. Her breath stuttered. He ran his hands up her front, and she arched, pressing her breasts into his palms. She turned her head, her mouth searching for his though her eyes were closed. He obliged, kissing her as hard as he dared.

"Do you like this?" He kept one hand cupped at her breast, rolling a thumb over her nipple, while the other slid down, tickling her belly and lower, slipping along her slit.

"Maybe...maybe just a little." The words cut off with a gasp and a moan as he entered her with one finger.

"Fuck. You're so hot. You're so hot to me," he rumbled against her ear. His hips bucked up in spite of himself, his hardness seeking friction.

It was a kind of erotic Edward had no context for. His every sense was overwhelmed with her. He thrust one finger, then two into her, moaning with the feeling of her rocking her hips to meet him at the same time he could feel the pulse of her blood under her skin, under his tongue where it was pressed against her throat. Her heartbeat was a rhythm he felt in his bones. Her breaths and those tiny, wonderful noises she made told him everything he needed to know to play her body like an instrument.

He had never been so in tune with another being. Nothing like this. There was nothing like this in the world. He could work her slow, drawing out her pleasure. He could work her so fast, she'd orgasm in seconds. In some tiny corner of a fraction of his mind, he took the time to appreciate the fact vampires couldn't get muscle cramps.

She screamed when she came—a loud, guttural cry as her body bowed—and then she collapsed back against him.

As she caught her breath, he held his, not daring to breathe her in for a few moments. He was still rock hard—well, harder than normal, he supposed—and it was all he could do not to lift her by the waist and sink deep inside her as he wanted to. Her scent was all around him, easily overpowering the faint scent of chlorine in the water. He just needed her, and his desire was making it difficult to remember that she was breakable, that he had to keep control of his own body.

After a minute, Edward began to press soft kisses to her shoulder. In another minute, Bella reached back, threading her fingers through his hair, scratching along his scalp.

"I should feed you." He blew cool breath against her neck, knowing she was too hot now. "We can—"

But he cut off with a groan as she pressed her pert, little ass right up against his erection. "Oh, hell."

She tilted her head back, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to his neck and flicking her tongue against him. He knew she was nervous again. He could hear the trip in her heartbeat and feel the slight tremor of her body.

Nervous though she might be, she was also willing and wanting. He could see it clearly in her eyes when she turned and straddled him. He watched her, pointedly holding her gaze as the water lapped up between them. Her eyes were still so dark, caught up, like him, in desires with only a sprinkle of uncertainty. Edward let his eyes dart down, and he moaned again. Her breasts were above the water now, freckled in goose flesh, her nipples stiff in the cooler air.

Bella, her breath falling hot and ragged on his face, began to move on him, her hot center sliding right over his length. His fingers tightened around her waist, too tight, and he had to force himself to relax. She was just right there.

Edward leaned down, rolling his tongue over her nipple as he tried to center himself. He couldn't lose himself to the pleasure. He couldn't forget—not even for an instant. He could crush her without effort, but he wouldn't. He wouldn't.

"I trust you," she whispered, her hands on his face, his hair. She dropped a kiss to his crown. "I love you."

He raised his head, his frayed nerves calming in the wake of the love that welled in him. This incredible creature. How was it possible she'd chosen him? She said he'd given her a way to live, but she'd given him a reason. She'd given him purpose and hope. Hope that there was something to this endless existence of his.

He took her face between his hands and kissed her lips, kissed a trail to her hairline. "You'll tell me?" he whispered against her ear, a reminder. She was in control, always, but that also meant he was trusting her with himself. It would kill him to hurt her, so he needed to trust in her honesty.

In response, Bella kissed him. She reached beneath the water and took his length in her hand. She lifted up and guided him home.

They made love slow, so slowly at first. Edward rocked and Bella clung to him, shaking a bit. He held her tightly, his eyes threatening to roll back in his head at the pure heat and pleasure of it.

He murmured nonsense against her ear. Poetry in every language he knew as he searched for the right words to describe what this was for him. He'd always wondered about the existence of the soul—if he'd had one at all and if it was lost along with his humanity. But being with Bella like this, he had to believe in his soul. What else would explain this sense of completeness? This settling he felt, the restless search for meaning gone quiet in the space between her heartbeats?

"Edward," she breathed, moving on him, searching for his mouth.

He kissed her hard and pulled her against him even harder. She yelled out, and he almost panicked, but she said, "Oh, God, yes. Please."

With each thrust, he was closer to the edge. Not just of orgasm, although that...that was going to wreck him. There was something bigger on the horizon—deeper and far more irrevocable.

When he did climax, the strangest thing happened. His mind, his vision, went white. Blank. There was very literally nothing but her. Him. Them.

And it was perfect.

 **~0~**

As evening fell later that day, they lounged on the couch, Edward telling Bella stories about the sixties and how awful he looked in clothes from the seventies. She'd been so relaxed and content all day.

When her eyelids began to droop, he pulled her up into his arms to carry her to bed. To the spare bedroom. He'd ruined the main bedroom. And the hot tub room looked like it had been in a flood. And there was a chunk taken out of the kitchen's granite counter top.

Yet still, when he laid Bella down on the bed, she came awake enough to pull him down with her. He undressed her again and ran his fingers over her body as she caressed his face.

"Bella…" He ran the pad of a finger over the shadows of bruises on the insides of her arms and others on her inner thighs.

"Hey." She ran a thumb over his lip and he let her tilt his head up. She grinned at him, her expression easy and tender and yes, still wanting. "When I was in college, and people would talk about their sexcapades, a lot of them had stories about worse than bruises." She waggled her eyebrows. "It's a sex wound. I like it. Since you can't give me a love bite."

He groaned and claimed her lips. "You're wicked," he growled.

She giggled and then moaned into his mouth as he teased her clit.

They made love again, slow and easy. He knew she had to be sore. His climax, some minutes later, still made him hazy.

"Edward?" She was draped over him, her slight weight warm over his chest.

He'd had an arm thrown over his eyes and a curious desire to sleep, he was that relaxed. "Hmm?" He strummed his fingers over her back, not opening his eyes.

She took a shaky breath. "Do it now."

He froze. Waited five full seconds. "What?" he asked.

Bella pushed up onto her arms looking down on him, her eyes searching him. "I've never been so happy. I've never felt like this." She ran the back of her knuckle down his cheek, her hair spilling onto his chest. "It could never get better than today. It's…" She swallowed hard. "It's a good end." She stroked her hand down to rest over his belly. "A good beginning."

He stared back at her, conflicted as he sat up straight. End this beautiful, perfect day with her pain and screaming?

As though she could read his mind, she sat on his lap and put her arms around him. Her heart fluttered so fast and yet so strong. "If you hold me, I'll be okay," she whispered. "Please."

She had no idea what she was talking about.

Then again, what was he waiting for? "Carlisle…" he started, but then he shook his head.

The plan had been for them to call for his father, his sire, when they were ready. Now, though, the idea of letting anyone else touch her...do that to her…

No. No, she was his. He felt it even in that feral part of him. And it was stronger than his thirst. Much stronger.

He wouldn't hurt her.

Never.

 **~Jasper~**

The boy's scent had been absent for two days. Curious, that. The boy was nothing if not obsessive. Jasper had expected them to move the girl out of that little town at some point, but the others were still there. Protecting the father or had they split the coven?

Jasper considered the problem and smiled when a solution occurred to him. He'd needed information for a while now, and if the mind-reader was gone, well that opened up a whole lot of possibilities didn't it?

Decided, he descended the stairs down to the darkened basement, listening as his latest captive gasped, and his breathing stuttered.

"Shhhh," Jasper said soothingly, reaching over to flick on the light. "Steady now, pretty Peter."

The boy—twenty-one, with sandy hair and honest blue eyes—blinked in the sudden light, tugging at his chains. His terror screamed out of him though he said not a word.

Jasper sat down cross-legged. "Let's you and me have a little chat, hmm?"

* * *

 **A/N: *steeples fingers***


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N: Good morning, sunshines.**

* * *

 _ **~Jasper~**_

Human minds weren't difficult to understand. Part of the reason Jasper could deconstruct a mind in the space of a few weeks was because he was so familiar with the emotions of his victims. Humans weren't as unique as they liked to think, not a one of them so strong-willed that he hadn't been able to break them. Loneliness was the key. It was loneliness that radiated from them, as strong as fear if not stronger. It was the combination of the two emotions at such intense levels it drove the humans to desperation and made it possible for Jasper to do what he did. A desperate man was an honest man.

With Peter, Jasper simply went a different direction. If not to escape, a human as alone as he'd been—chained in the dark for two days—wanted nothing so much as he wanted to trust someone. Anyone. Even his attacker.

It had been ridiculously easy to manipulate him right where Jasper wanted him. Within a day, Peter was firmly in the grasp of Stockholm Syndrome. Jasper spun a sad story, amped up Peter's empathetic emotions and turned down his fear with his gift, and he had a willing ally in his quest for information.

With the mindreader gone, it was safe to send Peter into Forks on a reconnaissance mission. Bless tiny little towns. It was plausible that a little poking around would yield a lot of answers. So, careful to keep his scent off the boy, Jasper drove him as far as Port Angeles with enough money to get to Forks, stay for a few days, and get back.

Peter was dutiful, and Jasper rewarded him. It was a pity Peter would never understand the irony. The boy was to be Jasper's next meal, and that was also his reward—an expensive and delicious meal. Peter had admitted he liked the finer things.

"You fucking swear." Peter shook his head. "That town is ridiculously tiny. It's stupid. These kids who ran away aren't even kids. They're both grown ass adults in their twenties. He's rich. What's the problem here?" He shook his head. The next words he spoke were around a mouthful of food. Jasper tried not to grimace. "But it's all anyone can talk about."

He put his elbows on the table, leaning forward. "So apparently, she's done this before. Breaking her dad's heart for the second time this year. That kind of thing."

Jasper waved a hand. "I'm interested in where they went, Peter. You know what Edward Cullen did to me. What he'll do to her if I don't find them first."

Peter swallowed hard, as though his food suddenly twisted his stomach. As it should for the story Jasper had told about Edward. He continued with solemnity. "I followed Dr. Cullen around a bit. I didn't even have to be cool. He had lunch with the Chief. Well. They were in the hospital cafeteria, anyway. I don't think they actually ate anything."

Jasper encouraged Peter to feel focused. The boy told him of the overheard conversation between two heartbroken fathers, one of them false. Charlie Swan, it seemed, had all but interrogated his friend, under the impression that Edward had stolen his daughter away. He'd asked about places Edward might go; friends he might have run to.

At that point in his immortal life, Jasper was an expert in truth. Even vampires, having grown up human, were at least moderately predictable. More often than not there was a kernel of fact to whatever fiction they spun.

Carlisle listed off places his son might have taken Charlie's daughter. Places he supposedly dreamed of going, many of them far too sunny.

Then, he said Alaska. He mentioned it briefly in a long list of possibilities.

Jasper had considered the likelihood the Cullens were planning to turn the girl. The aggravating boy loved her—intensely so. It had amused Jasper that he hadn't turned her already, but then, that coven was the strangest he'd ever encountered. Perhaps they'd just spirited the girl away where Jasper wouldn't find her.

Against her will or not, Jasper mused. The girl had been terrified of both him and Edward during that confrontation. Terrified and disgusted. That didn't mean the boy wouldn't turn her. Alaska's wilderness was a good place to rein in a furious newborn, especially if he was going to attempt to keep her to his bizarre diet.

If he had taken her unwillingly, Jaspers chances of luring her in as a partner, a mate, could potentially still be realized. After all, Jasper had never lied to her. And after she'd discovered Edward's lie, there was every possibility he'd hurt her in ways Jasper never would have.

Then, there was the other thing to consider. Vampires were, by nature, territorial. Even now, something deep inside Jasper itched, needing the boy and the rest of his coven out of his life, out of his territory. The feeling must have been a thousand times worse for the Cullens. Not only had they claimed the girl as their own, but they owned this portion of the Olympic Peninsula on literal paper, as amusing as that was. They owned that area to a point they'd convinced their natural enemies, the shapeshifters, to ally with them.

Jasper hadn't lived as long as he had without learning to recognize a threat. Maybe the Cullens would leave him alone if he left them alone, but it was unlikely. He'd felt the ferocity roiling in the boy. He would hunt Jasper even if the others wouldn't.

No. Whether or not he could coax Bella to his side, this matter would have to be resolved. Carefully, too. The boy wasn't a skilled fighter, but his gift had kept him alive longer than Jasper was used to. Long enough that, looking back, Jasper should have thought to use his gift to send fear coursing through him. That would have been interesting if nothing else. How would the boy have reacted when he'd know what Jasper was doing—hearing his thoughts—but still _felt_ the fear.

Then, there were five in the coven. Six if they had Bella, and she'd have her newborn strength for a time. _And,_ Jasper had little doubt she'd be gifted. It was one of the curiosities he wanted answered. The girl, the _human_ girl, had been somewhat resistant to his gift. He thought it might have something to do with her trauma. The emotions of a traumatized mind worked differently; Jasper already knew that. The sensation had been amplified with Bella, so he had no doubt it would only grow stronger with the change.

Jasper sat back, tapping a single finger on the tabletop. He nodded at Peter. "You've done well. It's a place to start, in any event."

Now what to do with him. For all he knew he was a monster, Jasper hadn't ever used a human to his own ends before. They gave him sustenance, and in return, he swore to remember them to the end of his days, if they ever did end. To take Peter's blood now seemed excessive.

There was another possibility, though. One that might solve the problem of how many Cullens he'd have to deal with on his own.

He cast an assessing eye over the boy in front of him. Peter shivered and squirmed, discomfort flowing from him. "What?" he asked, ducking his head.

Jasper leaned forward, his hands clasped on top of the table. "Tell you what. I'm going to let you choose."

 _ **~0~**_

Four Cullens remained in Forks. If it hadn't been for the wolves, Jasper would have gone after them first. He knew where they were, after all. Without the mindreader, they had no advantage besides pure numbers, but Jasper was more than experienced to bring down four untried vampires. Then again, it was always possible Edward wasn't the only one with a gift.

No. He had to neutralize Edward, which meant he had to find him.

Jasper had found a remote cave deep in a forgotten chasm. It was there he'd bitten Peter and then he'd rolled a large boulder in front of it for good measure, leaving the boy writhing on the floor in a Jesus metaphor that amused him.

More complications. He wanted to start the search for Edward, but before he could, he had to decide what to do about the problem Peter now presented. He should be at his full strength to deal with a newborn, which meant he didn't have enough time to get to know his next meal. He still found it incredible that the Cullens would never have given him a second thought had he merely snatched Bella from her bed and drained her right there.

Ah, well.

As Jasper ran back toward civilization, he began to plan his next move, going over scenarios and trying to figure the best way to annihilate a coven. At the corner of his mind, he was aware of a maelstrom of emotion. It took him two seconds longer than it should have to realize it wasn't, as he always assumed, a small family or a group of campers.

No. The tangle of emotions was on the move, and moving too quickly to be human. There were no roads out here. Jasper slid into a low crouch, eyes wide and senses piqued. He scaled the side of a cliff face and perched on a rock mid-way up, scanning the trees and the forest floor.

"Show yourself!" he shouted.

In another few moments, a little girl stepped out into the clearing, looking up at him. No, not a girl. She was fully adult, just extremely tiny. Tiny with dark, spiky hair and a grin.

And, she was a vampire.

She perched her hands on her hips, lips pursed. She looked so calm, but she felt anything but. Jasper flinched the slightest bit, trying to keep up with them all.

"You just had to be in a rush, didn't you?" She shook her head, her expression wry.

Jasper cocked his head, wincing, and he couldn't tell how much of the confusion that inundated him now was his own. "I don't know you." It was no question. There was no way he could have forgotten.

"Get down from there." She grinned at him, all teeth. "I won't hurt you."

Jasper laughed. That was when he realized, of all the emotions he felt swirling in her, one was missing. She wasn't afraid. Not even a little.

He dropped from his perch into a crouch, studying her, planning his next move. He stepped to the right, but, incredibly, she got there first. Taken aback, Jasper darted forward. She stepped out of the way the fraction of a second before he started moving.

Growling under his breath, Jasper shifted into a defensive stance. "Let me guess. A friend of the Cullens?"

She laughed. It was a strangely bitter sound. "No, and that's your fault."

He didn't understand her, and he also didn't believe her. This was a trick, and he wouldn't be felled by it. He was centuries old, and this family would not be the last of him. He would strike first.

The thought had only barely occurred to him before the girl was a blur in front of him. With a hiss, Jasper threw himself after her.

No matter what he did, she seemed to know enough to counteract him. He couldn't get close.

Then, with no small amount of horror, Jasper realized he was no longer on the offensive. He was being hunted.

And he was losing.

He jumped. He darted. But she was there. Almost before he could process what was happening, she was perched on his back, her mouth near his neck. He gave a roar of fury.

"Calm down, drama queen. I don't want to kill you."

Her slight weight was gone from him then, and when he whirled around, she was across the clearing from him. His hands clenched in fists at his sides. "What in all hells is this?" he snarled.

"You _are_ an angry one, aren't you?" She shook her head, hands on her hips again. "I have no idea what I see in you."

He turned her words over for a minute, but he could make no sense of them. That, and the weight of her emotions was heavy in his own mind. He shook his head hard. "Speak clearly."

She laughed. "I'd have to think clearly to be capable of that." Another head shake, but she sat, cross legged, watching him. "I woke up on my own. I didn't know who I was. I didn't know _what_ I was. My head was full of images. Enough to drive me mad." She giggled. "Again.

"Except I couldn't go mad. My mind didn't shatter. It c _ouldn't_ shatter, and there were two visions stronger than the rest."

She turned her face away from him—a move he would have thought unwise if he hadn't seen firsthand what she could do—her voice wistful. "There was them. A family. And they do love like a family, Jasper."

How the hell did she know his name?

"Not only that, but I saw him. The one who should have been my brother. The one who can understand me, because he can hear me."

Jasper scoffed. "Edward."

The girl turned toward him, her eyes narrowed. "Yes." She swept her gaze over him. "The second vision was you."

He was silent. He felt her anger. Not fury; she was just pissed off. "It was supposed to be the simplest thing. You were supposed to find me. Not now. Not now when I still don't know how to control this." She gestured to her head. "It was supposed to take you long enough that I almost got tired of waiting."

She sighed, and her emotions grew peaceful again. "Things got mixed up from what they should have been, and now here we are." She looked right at him, her gaze piercing. "You're too late."

"Too late for what?" he asked. This creature unnerved him as much as she enraptured him. He didn't know what to think about what she was saying.

"They changed her, and if you go after them, you're going to die." She said it as placidly as though they were discussing butterflies and dandelions. "You take out some of them, sure. But you always die."

He processed this, still incredulous. She wasn't lying. Or at least she didn't think she was.

She looked at him, her smile as sad as she felt. "I'll tell you something, though. You and I are cut from the same cloth. I found her first. The girl. Bella. I found her before everyone. I remembered my niece, you see, and when I remembered, I saw into her future." She laughed. "And there you were. And there the Cullens were, all tangled up."

Her eyes focused, and he felt revulsion in her. "I saw what you would do to her. What you _did_ do to her. To Bella." Then, she frowned, and her emotions became conflicted. Again, she glared at him. "It made me sick, and I could have stopped it. Right there, I could have stopped it." Her eyes flicked to his. "But I wanted that future. That future of you and me. And I let it all happen. I'm responsible for what happened to her. And for what you'll do to that family." Her lips quirked. "And what they'll do to you."

"You can tell the future," he said out loud. Unnecessary. He already knew it was true.

She gave him a sarcastic look. "You're going to have to be a whole lot faster than that to keep up with me, ace."

His lip twitched.

What was this creature? And if he approached her, what would she do?

She smiled. "Don't be afraid."

"You've told me I'm going to die."

"That's what I'm doing here. Stopping you from chasing your death." She stood up and took a step toward him. "There's more. There's a lot more. It's all happening too soon, but that's how it is, I guess. That's how it's going to be."

"And you and me?" he asked.

She scoffed. "Yeah." She studied him again. "I'd say it's not my choice but…" She huffed. "It is. Or it will be. Again and again, I see me choose it. Choose you. Choose us."

He took another few steps, so he was standing in front of her. "Who are you?"

Her smile, again, was genuine, and she offered his hand. He reached out and took it, distracted, momentarily, by how small and perfect it was in his. "I'm Alice," she said, and his endless life changed.

 _ **~Bella~**_

Edward hadn't let her go. Not once. He'd held her while she burned, while she thrashed, while she hung on with every ounce of strength in her not to scream. He held her while she slowly gained her sanity back. She clutched at him.

Slowly, she began to feel different. Very different. Slowly, so did he.

He got soft under her hands.

He was _soft._

And warm.

And she was…

"Bella." He sounded strained. Because she was squeezing him. She was squeezing him, and she was hurting him.

She was hurting Edward. She was hurting stone.

Bella flung herself backward, away from him. Just as quickly, she grasped her head, covering her ears.

The world was _loud._

And smells were...everywhere. So many of them.

"I know it's disorienting." He sounded so different. So different, and yet…

Bella opened her eyes again. Christ, she could see dust mites in the air. And she could taste them. Not in a gross way. She could taste the air. Could taste everything she smelled. She shook her head and tried again to look at him.

"Oh, wow."

His concern turned into tentative amusement. "Yeah. You too."

She laughed. It sounded like bells. She stepped toward him. In the space of a breath—which she no longer needed to take—she was there beside him. He smirked, and she laughed again. She took his face in her hands.

He was warm. She couldn't get over that. He put a hand over hers against his cheek. "How do you feel?"

How did she feel? She was thirsty. She knew that. An intense thirst she had no concept for. She was confused. No, she wasn't confused. She just wasn't used to thinking so many things at once. She wasn't used to _understanding_ things as quickly as she was now. Things she had thought about but had been beyond her grasp just three short days ago.

But there was only one answer she wanted to say out loud. How did she feel.

She grinned. "Strong." Her grin widened as she felt that strength. Felt it in every cell of her being. She could have lifted an eighteen-wheeler with no effort at all, and she knew it. Her eyes flicked to Edward. "Catch me."

Then, she ran.

* * *

 **A/N: I think it's worth noting that in canon, Alice was born in 1901. She was turned at the age of 19 (as I recall). She didn't meet Jasper until 1950. So, she was alone for thirty years. I figure she was trying to get her gift under control.**


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N: Monday, Monday.**

Bella as a vampire was a wonder to behold; by far one of the most incredible things Edward had ever seen. It wasn't her beauty—though she would steal the breath of any being, human or vampire, who looked on her. She was confident—her stance, her smile, her stride. He couldn't take his eyes off her.

Edward, having had time to muse on the subject when his family joined them in Alaska a full week after her change, remarked to Carlisle, "I've been thinking about Plato's _Theory of Forms_. That there exists a true version of what a thing is meant to be. There is such a thing as the perfect form of man, but no man embodies that perfect form. The form is a truth that can never be realized."

He nodded his head at Bella, talking with Rosalie, Emmett, and Esme in the distance, giving father and son room to talk. "If there's a perfect form of a vampire, Bella must be it. Maybe, it's that she was so aware of everything she was as a human, all the ways she could be broken, both physically and mentally, and how the one connected to the other. In this life, she's intuitively aware of the essence of what it is to be a vampire. She embodies the strength she has versus the world around her. She's aware of the connection between her advanced mind and her primal nature. I'm not saying she could resist the scent of a human should we ever come across one unawares, but I wouldn't put it past her either."

Carlisle considered this, his scientific mind buzzing with questions. Edward had to smile. His father was nothing if not curious. "Her mind remains silent to you?" he asked.

Edward nodded. "It's disappointing in a way, but I'm also glad. She likes her privacy, I think." He tried to give everyone their privacy, as much as it was possible.

"She's a wonder, Edward. She's…"

"Alive?" Edward supplied, picking the word out of his father's thoughts. He understood what Carlisle meant. Everything about Bella before had been colored by her wounded psyche. It wasn't living. In many ways, she'd been actively dying. Now, she was animated-full of movement and desires. "How ironic."

Across a clearing, Bella, very suddenly, jumped right onto Emmett's shoulders, startling him with her quickness. Edward tensed a moment when Emmett retaliated, but Bella, making good on her theory that she could apply human fighting techniques to vampires, quickly bested him. Of course, it didn't hurt that she, with her newborn blood, was still much stronger than Emmett. She sent him careening into a rock face.

"They're going to cause an avalanche," Carlisle murmured, shaking his head.

Edward chuckled. His thoughts turned again to Plato, and, as always, to the demon that had begun all this.

Had Jasper heard Plato's _Theory of Forms_ straight from the man's mouth? It was possible.

"What's wrong, Edward?" his father asked, a hand to his arm.

"I'm wondering if he saw this. What a good vampire Bella makes, I mean. If that's why he wanted her." He grimaced, standing up straighter. "And I was wondering if he and I are more alike than I want to acknowledge."

He could hear Carlisle's surprise. "What would make you say that?"

"Bella and I have been having philosophical discussions. The biology of a vampire dictates that we prey on humans, and there's nothing wrong with that in biological terms. Just because humans believe they're at the top of the food chain doesn't make it reality.

"However, of course, humans and vampires share the privilege of having an advanced, thinking mind. Most of our kind give in to instinct. It's easier, and it makes them stronger. It's infinitely more palatable. Yet, we aren't the only ones who have qualms of conscience, even if we are one of two families who abstains completely. " Edward cocked his head, considering again. "And then there are vampires like him...and me."

"How are you comparable to him?" His father still sounded disturbed as Edward felt at the idea.

"He can feel the emotions of his victims. It's not so different from my gift. Like him, I didn't see why I should struggle, fight against my own biology, but the weight of what I heard in their minds before they died was too much. So, I used my gift to play god; I fooled myself into thinking I could decide who was worthy rather than choosing my meals at random like most of our kind would. You know the monster it made me."

Edward looked at his father. "Devil that he is, I do understand that he doesn't do what he does because it brings him pleasure, any more than it brought me any pleasure or satisfaction to kill human monsters. He does it for the same reason I did—because it's how he's coped with his biology and his gift."

"I don't think it ever would have occurred to you to think of torture as a means of coping."

"No." Edward shook his head. "He's a vile creature. But, I understand why he thinks he isn't." He paused a beat. "And it makes me wonder if I'm just trying to excuse myself."

"For?"

"Striking first," Edward said grimly. "We have to kill him."

At that, Carlisle grimaced. He didn't want to kill _anyone,_ but he nodded. "If he feels threatened, he'll come for us eventually, regardless of what he wants with Bella."

A rush of protective fury went through Edward, and he felt a growl rumble low in his throat. He clenched his fists at his sides. "He deserves to die for what he did to Bella." He paused, gathering his calm again. "But that's vengeance, and I can't pretend to be humane and vengeful at the same time."

"It's self-defense in this case. He's a danger to our family now, unless he agrees to let it go."

"You did tell me," Edward said. "You told me I was putting our family at risk."

"That's not precisely what I said." Carlisle cocked his head then, and Edward had to smile. His mind was already running away from him, off on a tangent from their conversation.

Edward huffed, glad to turn his mind off the morality of plotting murder for a moment to indulge his father's spiraling thought process. "Vampire evolution?" he said with a note of incredulity.

Carlisle smiled. "Your Bella was right when she said we're natural. And if we're natural, evolution applies."

"How?"

"Well, this is all theory, of course."

Edward raised his hand in a 'go on' motion.

"Humans evolve, and we were all born humans. Humans evolved and formed a conscience, among other things. I've considered the fact that the vegetarian lifestyle is part of evolution. As in, there's something in human biology or psychology that evolved to make us capable of being able to choose." He looked to Edward. "I've never met a vampire older than me who's even thought about the vegetarian lifestyle, but there have been a few younger than me."

Edward chuckled. "So you think you're the first?"

His father's eyes sparked with amusement. "Someone had to be." He shrugged. "It's the repetition of a mutation that makes a species evolve. Since we don't procreate as other species, I also wondered if there was a reason I was attracted to each of you. It's not as though I stumbled on any shortage of humans on the brink of death in my lifetime, yet it was Esme, Rosalie, and you I chose. And Rosalie chose Emmett."

Edward turned this over in his head. "Like you could sense the turn in evolution that would make us more likely to be vegetarian? Like pheromones for vampires."

"Well, there was nothing that guaranteed you would agree with my way of life, after all. Any one of you is free to live the life of a normal vampire. Most vampires don't stay with their makers. Yet we're a family, and we all fight our nature. Even Emmett, whose personality is impetuous to say the least."

"I didn't always fight," Edward said, looking down in shame.

His father clapped his arm. "Yes, you did."

Edward had to smile. His father was biased. "Evolution, hmm? Natural selection. Survival of the fittest. How does vegetarianism help our species survive?"

Carlisle shrugged. "Why have vampires always remained hidden? Humans are a threat. The less open space we have to roam, the more cameras are everywhere, and on, and on, the more likely we're going to be caught."

"And if we're caught tearing humans apart… Well, that's the basis of many a compelling action movie."

 _ **~0~**_

Days went by, as they all adapted to the shape of their new family. Bella was just having so much _fun_ with her new life, the others were naturally drawn to her.

"If we ever need a recruitment video, she'd be it," Edward told his brother as they were returning from a hunting trip together. "She makes it look like a good time."

"I've been trying to tell you for years that it's not so bad." Emmett chuckled and shook his head. "Everything's got a downside. Like those campers a few years back." His grin fell, and Edward could see in Emmett's memories the grisly scene. "I didn't want to do that. I murdered a whole family. _And_ their goddamn dog."

He let his hands drop to his sides and visibly relaxed, shaking the heavier feeling off. "But is it wrong? We're hunters. So our prey have complex lives and emotions. If bears start to build houses, are we going to cut them out of our diets too?" He shrugged. "Life's complicated, but it's never been all bad." He gestured with his chin at the view. "We get to see things they never will. Do things no human could do." He grinned at Edward again. "You're here. You may as well enjoy yourself."

Edward looked to where Bella and Esme were climbing the tallest trees they could find and jumping off them into the snow far below. He had to smile, seeing clearly, even from a distance away, the huge smiles on the women's faces and hearing their laughter. "I am enjoying myself."

Emmett snorted. "Right. Passed a patch of very broken trees on our way up here that reeked of you and Bella." He wagged a finger in Edward's face. "It's called foreplay, not extreme logging."

Edward was about to leap at his brother when a far-off noise drew his attention. Emmett likewise straightened. Both of their heads turned in that direction.

"Someone's coming," Emmett said.

Edward was already racing toward the rest of his family. Emmett was right behind him.

By the time they got down into the valley, Carlisle and Rosalie had also regrouped. Bella reached her hand out to Edward as he ran up. He took it.

"Is it him?" she asked. Her crimson eyes were anything but scared.

Edward heard the demon's thoughts in his mind. He nodded. "It is."

He winced at the onslaught of thoughts. The demon with his reflected emotions, and…

The future teller and her mesmerizing, perplexing mind. They'd found each other after all, which meant he knew whose side she'd chosen.

 _I know what side I want to choose. The trouble is, you don't understand who the players are._

"Edward?" Rosalie asked, and he realized he'd been silent a beat too long.

"Alice is with him." He heard the ripple of dread go through his family.

"What do they want?" his mother asked.

 _You can see that we mean you no harm,_ Alice thought to him.

Edward grimaced. He could see that in both their wanted to talk.

He could also see the potential carnage that ensued if he said what he really wanted to—go to hell. There was no contest. Unprepared, with no plan, against the future-teller, they lost.

But he could see Alice's memories—past visions that would never be. She could see how much she wanted to be friends. Such a curious creature she was.

With some effort, Edward straightened out of his defensive stance. Though he didn't take his eyes off the treeline, he addressed his family. "They want a truce."

Emmett scoffed. Bella snarled. Edward turned to her, taking both her hands in his. He tilted his forehead against hers, closing his eyes against the constantly flickering visions of the future. Her power was, as she'd told him before, out of her control. She was subjecting them both to visions of Bella's death, the death of his family, over and over again. Bella usually got to Jasper before Alice got to her, but it didn't end well. It was an interesting tactic. His instinct-driven fury, his absolute _need_ to protect his loved ones warred with his rational self. He knew Alice wasn't threatening him. She was watching the future unfold just as he was, waiting for everyone's final choice.

Edward shook his head, looking in Bella's eyes. "Today isn't the day to fight."

She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Just today," he said.

She didn't like it, but she nodded her agreement.

He turned to the rest of the family. "They mean us no harm for now, but be ready. Be aware."

They turned to face the treeline as a unit. Carlisle stepped to the front and center of his brood with Edward and Emmett flanking him. Edward shouldn't have been surprised when Bella came to stand right beside him. The urge to protect roared strong in him, but he couldn't deny her this chance—to face her tormentor knowing she was stronger. He wished he could show her all the times she'd killed him in Alice's visions.

Alice and Jasper emerged at a walk. They stopped as soon as they were out from under the cover of the trees.

 _This is what we're afraid of?_ Edward heard his brother's derisive voice in his head. _I could squash her._

Edward winced but Alice just smirked, focusing on Emmett. "Haven't you ever heard about what happens the bigger you are?"

Emmett stood up taller, surprised. Jasper looked to Alice, and Edward could see in his thoughts that he wasn't quite sure of her yet. Oh, he saw the potential. Enough that he'd readily agreed to this truce despite his usual MO: Eliminate the threat. But the fact he couldn't figure Alice out had him more discombobulated than he was used to.

In spite of himself, Edward experienced a moment of pure camaraderie. He certainly knew what it was like to have his life turned upside down by an amazing woman.

Jasper, of course, felt the wave of empathy, and his sharp eyes focused on Edward. His brows furrowed ever so slightly, and his thoughts were colored with annoyance. He knew Edward could understand Alice in a way he never could.

Beside Edward, Carlisle spoke. "Hello again," he said to Jasper, his voice calm as ever. He turned his head ever so slightly to address Alice. "And you. It's nice to meet you, finally."

A smile lit Alice's face. "Oh, you have no idea how pleased I am to meet you." She glanced at all of them. "All of you."

Rosalie scoffed, but the rest of them didn't react. At least not outwardly. Edward could hear all of their curiosity and caution, even fear.

"You still think we can be friends," Edward said to Alice.

Her smile turned wry, and the flicker of visions turned off. "No." She sighed. "That ship's sailed. I'm a lot of things, Edward, but I'm no fool." Again, she looked to the others. "Believe me. You all would have loved me."

"Oh, I'm sure," Bella muttered under her breath.

Jasper's attention snapped to her, and the color of his thoughts had Edward's world turning red. He growled low in warning. The rest of his family shifted in response to the sound. Jasper only grinned, his eyes still on Bella. "I was right about you."

"Don't you talk to me," Bella hissed through clenched teeth, and Edward only barely caught her before she shot forward. Jasper was amused. Amused at her volatile newborn nature the same way a human was amused at a kitten trying to walk for the first time. Edward was pretty close to losing what little control he had.

"Carlisle." Alice's voice was hard now. "I understand that we can't be friends, but _you_ must make sure we aren't enemies."

"Not enemies," Edward snarled. "When you joined him—"

"There are worse things than Jasper coming," Alice said.

Carlisle held out a hand, catching Edward's shoulder. _Stay calm. Do they still have peaceful intentions?_

Edward clenched his jaw, but he gave a short nod.

Carlisle's expression was a lot colder as he addressed Alice and Jasper. "I have no desire for this to end in violence. However, if you truly came to call a truce between us, antagonizing us doesn't seem wise or respectful."

"You're right," Alice said, staring at Jasper with her hands on her hips.

He raised his hands in the air, looking bemused, the smug bastard. "Apologies. This is a somewhat, ah...unique situation for me. I meant no offense."

Despite his nonchalant words, Edward could hear just how tightly strung he was. It was effortless—his readiness for battle. He was on the alert.

Well. So was Edward.

"Enough." Alice sounded pissed. She clutched her head, and Edward's knees buckled a bit at the onslaught of images. They changed so rapidly as choices were considered and discarded between all present. "We cannot be enemies."

"That's something your boyfriend should have thought of before he started torturing people," Rosalie said.

Alice shook her head. "You don't understand." She looked to Edward, and to his surprise, her eyes were pleading for help.

Then, she released a barrage of thoughts, peering far into the future with her gift. Edward recoiled, clamping his hands hard over his ears as though it would help. He shook his head rapidly.

"What is it?" Carlisle asked, a steadying hand on Edward's shoulder. He glared at Alice. "What have you done to my son?"

"Nothing," Edward gasped. "I'm fine. I just…"

"He sees what I see." Edward could hear the relief in Alice's thoughts. "The future." She looked at Carlisle. "We can't be enemies. If not friends, we need to be united for what's coming."

"What's coming?" Esme asked, stepping to her husband's side.

"There are two futures," Alice said. "Many paths to get there, but it's always the same."

"The Volturi," Edward said, and his family, collectively balked. "They become...involved."

"There will be war," Alice said. "A war with only two possible outcomes. Either Aro remains the leader of the vampire world." She looked Carlisle square in his eyes. "Or you do."

Edward could hear the startled thoughts of his family. Even Bella straightened out of her defensive stance, looking at Carlisle. Carlsle's eyes were frozen on Alice. "Me?" he asked, sounding utterly confused. "You must be mistaken."

"She isn't," Edward said. "She's right. I do see what she sees. I see war. Not now. Not in the near future, but eventually." He reached out, putting an arm around Bella, needing her close to him. "They see you as a threat, and they come for you," he said to his father.

Carlisle took a physical step backward. "That's ludicrous. I have no desire to lead, and Aro knows that. It's part of the reason I left his court altogether. I'm no leader."

"Looking around me, that's not what I see," Jasper said, his voice calm. "You've sired a loyal band of your own. One that rivals those he keeps closest in his court."

"And there are many who would consider themselves your allies." Alice's visions flashed forward—a long line of Carlisle's friends pledging their devotion to him. "They would choose you if it came to a fight."

Carlisle was shaking his head throughout this. "I have no desire to fight."

"You know history, Carlisle Cullen," Alice said. "You've lived it. Power often arises out of necessity. Empires don't stand forever, and the vampires have been a long time with the same rule." She offered him a small smile. "Surely you must see the allure, the power you've amassed. You're royalty."

"Royalty?"

"A benevolent king with a kind and beautiful queen at his side." Alice nodded at Esme. "Two princes to serve as generals. One pure strength, the other tactics." She looked at Bella. "And you have a shield."

"A what?" This time it was Edward who spoke.

Alice smiled more broadly again as she watched the future spin. "Visit your friends while you're here in Alaska. Eleazar should have more answers for you on that regard, but you're very powerful, Bella. More powerful than you know."

Edward glanced at Bella whose brows were furrowed in confusion.

"Which brings me to my next point. As I said, you have friends. These friends genuinely like you. They _will_ follow you."

"She's right, Carlisle," Edward said. "I never thought about it, but it makes sense. You wandered for hundreds of years before you met Esme. It's unusual for a vampire to truly know as many others as you do. If what you've told us about Aro is true, and he knows all thoughts with a touch, your name must come up often and with more fondness. It's a threat. You do have power."

"And though you might not intend to use it, a ruler who wishes to remain in power can't take your word for it," Jasper said. "If what Alice has seen is true, I'd much rather be on your side. It's in our best interest not to fight each other."

Carlisle, clearly disturbed, stared at Jasper. "You're thousands of years older than I am with endless amounts of experience and fighting ability. And with your abilities you can influence people to your side. If there's a mantle to be taken, why not do it yourself?"

Jasper looked contemplative. "It's a matter of climate and freedom. The emotional climate of others clamoring for attention isn't one I enjoy. I'm a solitary creature and one with little patience. Our kind's emotions are so volatile." He smirked. "And believe it or not, I don't enjoy killing, which seems to come with the territory, if Aro's court is an example. Those who came before him were much the same."

"I don't want to kill anyone."

"No, and perhaps that's what will make you a good king," Jasper mused. "Who knows. Maybe you'll be the one to broker peace between the humans and the vampires." He waved a hand, dismissing that for the moment . "Regardless. You have the army. As your ally, yes, I can help bolster your troops against any threat."

"This is insanity," Carlisle muttered.

"You should see what I see," Alice said with a laugh. "But I'll leave that to your son to explain. Think about it. I know it's a lot. We'll be back."

With that, she and Jasper disappeared into the forests once more. **A/N: Thanks to all my gals, and a shout out to Stephanie M. for letting me double check my understanding of biology and evolution.**


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N: Let's do this, duckies!**

* * *

Bella didn't know what to think. Well, that wasn't true. She thought about too many things all at once, all the time. Her new brain was bewildering at times.

More accurately, Bella's new brain had no answers for the multitude of questions flying through her head. That was unusual. She felt both conflicted and scared for the first time in her new life, a fact that also made her both bitter and exasperated. Though her fear now was a lot quieter than it had been in her human life. That was something, at least.

It wasn't that she was scared for her safety. She still felt strong enough she could have killed all the Volturi and their guard herself. But she wasn't a lone vampire. She was a member of a unit, a family. She was Edward's partner and they looked to Carlisle.

After Alice and Jasper's visit, Edward sat quietly with his head in his hands, a pinched expression on his face. He said he had to sort and process the thousands of images and thoughts he'd seen in the other vampires' minds.

Meanwhile, Carlisle looked… wrecked. It was more than a little unnerving given that the Cullen family patriarch was always so calm. "How did this happen?" Carlisle murmured to no one in particular.

"Technically, it hasn't yet." Emmett tried for a joking tone but even he looked concerned.

"It has," Edward said.

The family all turned to look at him, and he raised his head to look back at them. "Aro has the ability to hear every thought you've ever had at a single touch, right?" Edward asked his father.

Carlisle seemed to brighten at that. "Yes. Which means he'll be able to see I have no intention to move against him. I wish him no ill will at all."

"Your intentions aren't the problem." Edward rubbed his temples as though he had a headache, which was absurd. "Bear with me. It's confusing to find concrete truth along the thousands of possible futures Alice sees. And it's incredible—the way she sees people she's never met because they're part of our future."

Edward considered a moment before he continued. "From what I myself have heard of others' thoughts, the Volturi don't rule by loyalty or admiration. At best, they rule by indifference. At worst, by fear. I also know from personal experience that your friends think the world of you.

"A leader must think ahead if he is to maintain his power. Aro will have seen you, and heard the love and loyalty your friends have for you, again and again. If you look at each of your friends as a potential soldier, maybe you can see the picture being painted for the man." Edward looked to his father. "You have a formidable army at your disposal; friends with gifts that could overcome even those of the Guard with the right strategy."

"So, it doesn't matter what your intentions are because intentions can change," Rosalie said, voicing what they were all thinking as they put together the pieces. "He won't let you live long enough to become a threat to him."

"I can kind of see how you look like some bad-ass general when it comes to fighting power," Emmett said, crossing his arms. "The wolves are our natural enemies, and you've managed an alliance between us."

Bella flexed her fists in irritation. "That bastard." Her lip twitched as she worked to tamp down the rage that threatened to overwhelm her. "I have to think that Jasper being willing to promise allegiance to you is...significant."

Edward put an arm around her waist, pulling her tightly against him. "For more reasons than you know. For what it's worth, he genuinely has no desire to kill, and as he said, he has no desire to lead. Yet, he offers a formidable advantage both with his gift and the fact he could sway an army of trained fighters to your side," he said to Carlisle.

"What do you mean?" his father asked. "What army?"

"It seems he spent a significant time in the south during the Civil War." Edward turned to Bella. "The vampires of the south are much more territorial than the nomadic vampires of the north. They fight for their territories. Jasper thought it would be prudent to brush up on his tactical training and so ingratiate himself with a vampire named Maria who is, ah… particularly good at keeping her crown, so to speak. She was the one who gave him his more modern name. If I'm reading Alice's visions of the future correctly, she and her soldiers would fight for us."

Carlisle shook his head, looking as disturbed as ever. "You're already speaking as a tactician; as though a war is inevitable."

"Because it is." Edward tightened his hold around Bella's waist. "Your survival depends on you understanding Aro is a threat to you. And because the Guard is so powerful, we have to think in terms of numbers, of armies, and tactics."

"It doesn't matter what my...our personal feelings are," Bella said through clenched teeth. "It makes tactical sense for us to ally with Jasper. He has Alice."

Edward looked to her, nodding. "It may be years or even centuries before Aro comes for you, for all of us, but it will happen. Alice got it into her head that we were meant to be family, and so she has an unusually strong affection for all of us."

Bella snorted. "Is there anything about that woman that isn't unusual?"

"Well, the point is, she's committed to keeping us all alive." He tilted his head with a thoughtful expression. "She thinks of us and Jasper as _hers_ in a way. Yet on a personal level, she's not emotionally attached to any of us, if that makes sense."

"Her emotional attachment is to the future, or futures, she saw," Carlisle surmised. He arched an eyebrow. "And that includes Jasper?"

"Yes. In fact, regardless of what we could have all been to each other, she's conflicted about her attachment to Jasper." Edward's lip curled, and his hand at Bella's waist flexed as he looked to her. "She feels she owes you, in particular, a debt it may take an eternity to pay for her role in what Jasper did to you."

Bella scoffed but she pressed up onto her tiptoes to place a small kiss to his cheek. "That sounds familiar."

"It does make them an interesting match. They both have a perspective that isn't easy for anyone else to grasp. Her because she sees so many possible futures based on every minute decision anyone makes, and him because he's so ancient he's seen whole civilizations rise and fall. Neither of them think like we do."

"What a nice excuse," Bella said, irritated.

Edward turned to her. "I'm sorry, love. I was processing out loud. You know what I feel. You know what I want."

Carlisle stepped forward and put his hand to her shoulder. He looked again like the calm, controlled father figure again, his expression focused and concerned. "I think it's clear we must come to a decision about Jasper and Alice for the safety and survival of this family. However, no matter what someone's future visions say, I am not your king or anything like that. Bella, more than anyone else, it wouldn't be fair of me to make this decision without your input. A monstrous wrong was done to you, and I can't ask you not to take your vengeance."

With her vampire sight, Bella could see clearly her own reflection in Carlisle's golden eyes. Her own eyes were crimson, her features twisted with barely contained rage. She felt again the rush of strength. She was powerful enough to defeat the demon.

Yet, that vengeance wasn't part of her personal nature. It was different when she felt he was a threat, but she believed Edward when he said Jasper wouldn't move against her or her new family. That cast her murderous rage in a new light.

Wouldn't it make her no better than the monster to want to rip him apart? Would it be justice to extinguish his life in repayment for the mental anguish he'd caused?

And then her rational mind chimed in. There still remained the problem of tactics. He was lethal on his own, and now he had a future-teller on his side.

All of this flashed through her mind in a fraction of a second. She took another moment to get firm control of her volatile, reactionary, newborn-vampire fury before she answered Carlisle. "It's like politics. You don't have to like a country to sign a treaty or to work together. I can be good."

Carlisle squeezed her shoulder and stepped back into his wife's embrace. She had a sad look on her face. "It's almost self-fulfilling prophecy," she said.

"How's that?" He took her hand, bringing it over his heart.

"We have to tell our friends." She frowned. "And then they'll have to decide. And it'll be what Aro sees one way or another."

Edward shook his head. "He's already thought of this, I think. If he hadn't, it wouldn't have been a possible future Alice saw."

"This is...frustrating," Carlisle said.

Bella snorted. That was putting it mildly to say the least.

 _ **~0~**_

After their discussion, all three couples took off in different directions. Bella ran for the spot where Edward had left the very few things they'd need. She'd found out the first day they were out and wandering—because vampires didn't need amenities—why he'd insisted on bringing a bag with them. Newborns didn't do anything halfway, and Bella had shredded both their clothes the very first time she'd pounced on him. She didn't think their clothes would survive this encounter either.

Several life-affirming hours later, Edward and Bella lay beneath a layer of snow in a little cocoon they'd carved out. She was draped over him. Though they had no need for rest, sometimes Bella enjoyed these quiet moments of affection as much as she enjoyed flinging him to the ground and having her way with him.

She pushed up onto her hands so she could look down on him. The top of her head jostled the roof of their little nest, and a clump of snow hit him right between the eyes. She laughed as he wriggled his nose to get it to slide down.

Slowly, she traced the lines of his face with her fingertips. He caught her hand and kissed her fingers, his eyes soft and adoring as he looked up at her. "So… I'm gifted?"

"You're quite talented in bed." He looked around them. "In snow?"

She rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean."

"Yes." He stroked her back as he spoke. "Funny. When she said that about Eleazar, of course we all made the decision to go see them. And because we did that, I saw what he'd tell us about you. I must admit, I'm surprised I hadn't thought of it sooner." He grinned at her. "You're a shield."

"What does that mean?"

"Well, if a vampire has a gift, it frequently works on the mind."

"Like your gift."

"Exactly. You can block them, apparently. The vision showed me that it works with Eleazar, Kate, and a few others we, apparently, test you against in the future."

Bella grimaced. "But Jasper could affect me. He could alter my mood."

"Emotions are physical. Or rather, the effect they have on your body is a physical, scientifically measurable effect, which makes it your body and not your mind being altered by Jasper's gift." Edward frowned and looked away. "I've had a theory about that for a while now." He pulled her down so he could hold her as he spoke. Though she wouldn't tremble in his arms, she did still like the affection of that gesture, so she lay her head against his chest. "Because of the trauma you suffered in your teens, you have...had several physical triggers. Such as how you might have panicked if someone touched you unexpectedly.

"Maybe it's strictly because of that, or maybe it's because of your natural gift, but you greatly reduced Jasper's ability to control your emotions. He could still do it, but not nearly to the extent he's capable of." Edward scoffed. "Toward the end of our little fight, he made me feel briefly calmer. The only reason I was able to fight it was because I heard his thought before he did it. He's very potent."

Bella tightened her hand into a fist, remembering Jasper's attack on Edward. Oh, if only she'd been a vampire then…

"It might interest you to know that his ability to _read_ your emotions is greatly diminished now. He could only _hear_ you when you were shouting, so to speak." Edward looked bemused. "Kind of like me with your father's thoughts. I could only hear extremes. He only felt you when you hit emotional peaks. He's curious whether he'd be able to manipulate your emotions at all at this point. But speaking of power, have you figured out what this means for you?"

Bella raised her head. "What?"

He smiled, cupping her cheek. "Almost all of Aro's most gifted sycophants have gifts that affect the mind. So you, my love, are all but untouchable. Well...except by me."

With that, he flipped her swiftly onto her back, and conversation was lost for a time.

 _ **~0~**_

It was another week before Jasper and Alice found them again. Enough time that Bella had quite prepared herself. Her emotions were ruled with an iron fist. She'd reminded herself she need only get through this conversation.

When the pair emerged from the tree line, Bella's eyes were on Alice. As she suspected they would be, Alice's eyes were on her. She looked wary. Bella made a decision in her head to ask her the question she wanted answered—just in case. Alice narrowed her eyes, but she raised her chin to acknowledge she understood.

Bella had to hold back her grin.

She stood in place as they got back to the business at hand. Alice looked to Carlisle and nodded. "I know it wasn't an easy decision for you to make." She looked at all of them. "I know it wasn't easy for any of you."

Jasper stepped forward. Bella had to stop herself from snarling. He only smiled, not looking at her—not antagonizing her—but at all of them. "Alice told me that Bella intends to teach you to fight." He nodded. "That's a good idea. I know now isn't the time, but maybe there will be a time in the future when we can all learn together." His lips quirked up at one corner as he concentrated on Carlisle. "As you said, I have centuries of fighting experience. I could help."

Emmett scoffed. Rosalie and Esme glared. Edward's lip curled, and Bella fought to control the roiling rage that threatened, again, to explode. Carlisle tilted his head. "We'll keep it in mind," he said, his tone tight and controlled.

Alice shook her head, massaging her temples. "Fine. This is fine," she said absently. "It'll be many years before we see each other, I suspect. And that's good. There's time for me to get control of this." She gestured at her head. "Time for other things to fall into place." She nodded with finality. "It's not what it was supposed to be, but it's good."

"Well, I'm happy you approve," Carlisle said with only a trace of sarcasm.

Alice took it in stride. "For understandable reasons, we swear to keep our distance until you want to speak to either of us. Unless, of course, I see movement from the Volturi."

"How will you keep in touch?"

"Oh, don't worry about that," Alice said, her voice airy and distracted now. "Just decide you want to track me down, and I'll figure out how to get to you."

As though it was no big deal that these two could-have-been-enemies could track them down whenever they want. Bella scoffed. Fleetingly, she agreed with Alice. It would have been nice if they were friends and could trust each other implicitly.

"Shall we shake on it then?" Alice said brightly. "As a symbol of good faith?"

"If we weren't telling the truth, couldn't you see it?" Emmett challenged.

But Bella stepped forward. She'd seen Alice's chin tilt ever so slightly at her and understood exactly why she was making the suggestion. She extended a hand as she stepped at first slowly—so no one would be startled—and then darted across the clearing to stand in front of Alice. She clenched her jaw, fighting to keep calm so her emotions didn't spike, and didn't dare look at Jasper. Not yet.

A week before, Bella had made several decisions. Alice must have heard them, because Edward wasn't reacting and neither was Jasper. Bella's plan depended on thwarting both of them—a feat she was capable of, but was a lot harder for Alice given their gifts. She must have been pulling it off, though.

Bella wrestled back her feral grin. She forced herself to calmly shake Alice's hand to seal her acceptance of the deal, her cooperation. Then, she turned.

In a fraction of a second, Bella had released the reins of every volatile emotion she'd been holding in. She leaped with such quickness, even someone as schooled as Jasper had no hope of fending her off from that close distance. She was perched on his back, her mouth at his neck before anyone could blink. With animal savagery, she bit and ripped, severing his head from his body and sending it across the clearing, smashing into a rock face. She landed smoothly, her smile all teeth. "Thank you," she said to Alice's pinched face.

"Don't worry," she said to her shocked family. They all stood tensed, waiting for Alice to retaliate. "She knows he had it coming. Besides, she can put Humpty Dumpty back together again." She turned to Edward, extending a hand. As he took it, his eyes wide with awe, she addressed the rest of them. "Come on. Let's get out of here."

Bella held her head high as she took off running, listening to Emmett's chortling laughter, and Rosalie's "nicely done," as they all followed her, that chapter of their lives concluded.

 _ **~The End~**_

 **A/N: Well. That was fun!**

 **I do want to do an outtake to catch up with Charlie, but for now, we shall call our tale complete. Many, many, many thanks to Betsy, Eleanor, Packy, MoH, and Mina for everything they do for me.**

 **And thanks to all of you for joining me on this journey.**


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